


carry you.

by skeletonwrites



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:50:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonwrites/pseuds/skeletonwrites
Summary: Aelin Galathynius has lost more than most - and her twenty-second birthday had barely come and gone. Her life had been going in one direction, and then the next day - it was going somewhere else entirely. And before she knows it, Aelin is finding out that everyone around her has secrets - and a lot of them. I suck at summaries, also , lots of smut.My Tumblr!





	1. Hurts Like Hell.

**Author's Note:**

> “How can I put it down into words  
> When it’s almost too much for my soul alone.  
> I loved, and I loved, and I lost you.” 
> 
> SONG FOR THE CHAPTER: Hurts Like Hell - Fleurie 
> 
>  
> 
> feel free to send comments/questions/concerns to my tumblr! Mention you’re from A03 if you want me to address your response in the notes of a chapter so you don’t have to try to keep up with my page.  
> Www.highqueenofelfhame.tumblr.com

The first thing that Aelin Galathynius really noticed upon waking up was that her mouth was dry. Painful, tongue-stuck-to-the-roof-of-her-mouth dry. The same could be said for her throat, which was not only dry, but felt raw as if she had been screaming at the top of her lungs. Raw like fire had climbed up it and left nothing in its wake. The second thing that she registered was the constant beep of a machine somewhere near her, maybe behind her, but a constant monotonous beeping. Third was the rubber nubs she could feel in her nose, tickling her nostrils with every breath that she took. As she began to open her eyes, she brought a hand up to pull whatever it was out of her nose, and realized once her eyes were open was that it was a cannula. Pain coursed through ever fiber of her being. She tried to swallow, but It felt like she was trying to swallow sandpaper. Hospital. She was in the hospital.

  
She glanced around the room, her eyes finally landing on the massive golden-blonde man that was draped over the only chair In the room, his head leaning back against the wall and his eyes closed. Aedion Ashryver looked positively absurd, and Aelin might have laughed if it wasn’t for how dry her throat was, how painful her entire body was. He was much too big for that chair, and there was no way that he was any sort of comfortable. She was sure he would complain about just how uncomfortable he was as soon as she woke him.

  
“Aedion,” she tried to rasp out, but her voice came out barely more than a whisper. Aelin frowned, and tried again with the same result. Aedion slept like the dead, so whispering at him wouldn’t do. She glanced at the tray next to her bed and Instinctively went to throw an arm out to grab the pen that lay on it and hissed, tears Immediately brimming her eyes as white hot pain flew down her arm, shoulder, and back. Looking down, she realized that the arm she’d tried to use - her left - was In a sling against her body, wrapped In ace bandages and gauze. Much of her fingers were bruised or had cuts all over. Glancing at her other hand, she saw a similar situation, only that arm wasn’t covered in bandages. It was just bruised and cut up like she was a little too clumsy again. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath and hissed “Aedion!”  
Aedion started from his place in the chair, his eyes frantic as he immediately stood and rushed to her side, smoothing a hand down her hair and searching her eyes with his own. Her own, really. They had the same teal eyes with a fiery ring of gold around the pupil. He let out a hoarse laugh, pressing his lips to her forehead as he took her other hand in his. Her hand was small and pale in his large, tan one.

  
“Aelin,” he murmured, closing his eyes and offering a quiet prayer to the Gods before pulling the chair he’d been sitting in over with his foot and he sat down, never releasing her hand and gripping It as tightly as he dared in his. Aelin watched her cousin with an incredulous look on her face as silver lined his eyes, then began falling that he didn’t even bother to wipe away. He pressed a button on the side of her bed, his eyes never leaving hers.

  
“Water?” Aelin croaked, her voice still barely above a whisper. Aedion merely nodded, setting her hand down carefully and making his way over to the sink, where a large cup, bucket of ice, and pitcher of water sat. While he poured her water, a young woman with tanned skin and curly hair bristled in, iPad in hand.

  
“You’re awake,” she said, offering her a smile. Aelin nodded, taking the cup from Aedion. She sipped It, sighing at the coolness of the water as it coated her parched and aching throat. Aelin handed the cup back to her cousin, nodding a silent thank you. He placed it on the tray next to her and sat back down, encasing her hand in both of his. Aelin grimaced as the young woman pressed cool fingers to her forehead, then swiped a thermometer along the left side of Aelin’s face where her fingers had been moments ago. “I’m Dr. Towers, Aelin. Do you know where you are?”

  
“I know I’m in the hospital but I don’t know much else,” she said, her eyes glancing from the doctors face back to Aedion’s. Despite how tan his hands were - how tan she knew he normally was from being In the Navy for the last few years, his face was pale. Underneath his eyes, there were deep purple circles as though he’d lost a lot of sleep. He looked like shit, if she was being honest, and with him, she always was.

  
“Do you know how you got here?” The young doctor asked, unwrapping a bandage from her head that she hadn’t been entirely aware of before. Aedion watched quietly, never letting go of her hand. Aelin shook her head no. “You were involved in an accident. You’ve had some pretty severe injuries, Aelin. We weren’t quite so sure that you’d be waking up anytime soon, if at all.” Aelin looked back at Aedion, frowning.

  
“Where’s mom?”

  
“Aelin-“ Aedion’s voice cracked. The beeping of the machine somewhere behind her spiked. The beeps got closer together as the roaring in Aelin’s ears took over.  


  
_All four grown ass adults were screaming Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of their lungs. Once the Galileo’s started, Aelin burst into a fit of laughter as her father and Sam took turns, going back and forth in different pitches. Her mom, Evalin, was laughing just as hard as she was, and she didn’t think she’d been happier. It would only be better if Aedion and Lys were there with them, she decided. But Aedion was barely back from his last deployment - he wasn’t re-enlisting, at least not for now - and Lys had wanted him to herself for a weekend. But Aelin still wished they had come._

__

  
_Soon, all four of them were laughing and singing; Sam head banging next to her as the guitar kicked in and the opera portion of the song came to an end.  
“You’re going to give yourself a headache,” Aelin warned, causing Sam to laugh and hold up his hands in front of his body as he ceased his head bangs and instead took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles. In the front seat, her parents fingers were laced and In her mothers lap. Most children would never in a million years go on double dates with her parents - and most significant others of said children would never join, but her parents were her best friends, and her parents absolutely adored Sam. And Sam, in turn, absolutely adored her parents._

  
_“You look beyond beautiful. Have I told you that yet tonight?” Sam murmured in her ear. Aelin rolled her eyes, but was smiling all the same. Aelin and Sam were high school sweethearts, and before that they were best friends since they were 8. Tonight, they were all out celebrating Aelin wrapping up undergrad classes for med school. She was going to actually have a proper summer- with Sam not taking summer classes, the two of them would be traveling for the next month all over the world, wherever the wind happened to take them next._

  
_“Only four times now,” she crooned, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips just as her stomach let out a low grumble. A bubble of laughter erupted her lips and Sam’s, and she pushed a hand to her abdomen. The blonde had barely eaten all day because she was too nervous before her graduation to eat even a single sunflower seed.  
“Dad, seriously drive faster, I’m starved,” she complained, which made everyone chuckle. Aelin was known for always eating more than anyone else in the room, and for always claiming that she was just so starving, how would she go on. Especially, they all made sure to point out, if dessert was involved. Rhoe merely smiled at her In the rear view mirror from the front seat, not wavering in his safe driving. Evalin smiled at her over her shoulder as the next song came on._

  
_“Well this is entirely too sad for this night,” Aelin huffed, picking up her phone and scrolling through Spotify while a song that wasn’t upbeat enough wafted through the speakers. Aelin kept scrolling until Sam called out, wrapping his arms around her tightly. One of his hands cupped her head to his chest._

  
_“RHOE!” Evalin shrieked, and Aelin was able to peak through the window just in time to see two bright lights headed straight for Sam’s side of the car. Sam twisted his body, shielding her entirely from the blow. Aelin heard the deafening crunch of metal on metal and then she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything but the pain that roared through her body. And then everything went black._

____

“Aedion where are my parents? Where Is Sam?” She whispered, the roaring In her ears still nearly unbearable. More tears escaped from Aedion’s eyes as he stared at her hand in his, and she looked back to the doctor that stood at the foot of her bed.

  
“In the accident…” The doctor shook her head, unable to find the words. “Aelin, I am so sorry. You are the sole survivor.” Before she could stop it, a scream was clawing its way up her throat, clawing and clawing until it escaped with wrath. She was beating at her head, where she knew a injury was based on where Dr. Towers had Inspected her head dressing, hoping to Gods it would cause enough injury end her, too. Pain lanced out through her head, down her neck and back, as if she was hitting every nerve In an odd place. But it wasn’t enough. Nails were clawing at the bandages on her arm, then her leg, she was screaming and thrashing about. Pain oozed from every pore, her aching body screamed with agony.

  
Before she would do any damage, Aedion’s hand was gripping her wrist tightly and forcing her arm to her side. Tears poured out of his face, no doubt like they did her own, as she threw her body back against the bed. White hot pain sung through her entire body while she thrashed, screaming, and screaming, until a nurse handed the doctor something, and then the clear liquid from a syringe was being pushed into the IV, and Aelin’s eyes were rolling back in her head as she drifted away into oblivion.

                                                                                                       —————————————————

  
Aelin looked at the door from where she sat in her hospital bed, her eyes moving away from the TV. She swallowed as she took in the sight of two police officers at the door. They stepped in at the slight incline of her head, and brought her four clear bags of belongings, both of them muttering their condolences. Aedion moved to take the bags but Aelin waved her good hand silently, pulling her parents to her first. Tears were already falling as she pulled her mothers dress out of the bag, but more started up when she caught the scent of her mothers perfume. She was unable to stop the tears when she pulled her fathers shirt out of the second bag, his cologne tugging at her heart relentlessly. A sob escaped her mouth when she pulled Sam’s shirt out of the third bag, his pants tumbling out with them. His scent, a scent that was so perfectly Sam, that she had spent the last few years curling up with every night, completely wrecked her. She clutched the two shirts - Rhoe’s and Sam’s - and her mothers dress clutched to her chest as she shoved Sam’s pants back into the clear bag, stopping when her fingers felt something hard in one of the pockets. Aelin knitted her brows together, glancing at Aedion briefly before she pulled a black velvet box out of the pocket. Her heart immediately ached harder, Aedion’s face screwed up into a look of pain, as she opened the box and took in the pear-shaped diamond, surrounded by a cushion of smaller diamonds. Sam was going to propose.

  
Sam would never get to propose. Aelin would never get to tell him yes. Her parents would never see her get married, or hold grandchildren someday. Sam would never have a Father’s Day. He would never be at the end of the aisle, waiting for his bride. He never even got to finish law school.

  
Aelin’s fingers shook as she took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger, whispering a quiet yes before laying her head back against the pillow, and letting a sob that could have shaken the entire universe rip out of her body. Aedion merely pulled her head to her chest and let her grieve.

                                                                                                     ———————————————————

                        It took awhile to get her into the car, and the entire car ride back to Aedion’s she was a nervous wreck. The last time she’d been In a car, she lost her family, save for Aedion. When they parked in the parking garage, Aelin was over eager to get out of the car, resulting her climbing out without help from her cousin, which made her hiss in pain as every muscle and joint in her body groaned. She leaned to rest her hip against the car as Aedion cursed and rushed around to help her.

  
“You have to be careful, Aelin. They may have let you leave the hospital but you’re still ordered to bed rest and you have to or nothing is going to heal right,” he said softly, scooping her up into his arms. He was extra careful of where his arms touched her - her back had been basically shredded by glass and metal and asphalt. They did what they could, but it would still scar very brutally. The deeper wounds were stitched, but the more shallow wounds that would close up on their own still struggled to do so as she ended up leaning on her back to put some of her more serious injuries at ease.

  
“Maybe I shouldn’t heal at all,” she said, her voice empty. It lacked any of the warmth it ever had. There was no emotion tied to the words except a raw sadness that she felt so fiercely that she almost felt nothing at all.

  
Aedion’s hand gripped her chin roughly, pulling her face to look look at his as he stepped into the elevator with her. Tears brimmed his eyes, and It almost jerked some emotion out of her, but her soul and eyes remained empty, gazing back at her now only surviving family.

  
“You don’t say that shit. Not right now, not ever. Sam and your parents would want -“

  
“Sam and my parents are fucking dead,” she spat jerking her chin from his grip. Aedion winced as the elevator dinged, and he kept quiet as he stepped out of the elevator and walked to his apartment at the end of the hall. He didn’t day anything as he carefully placed her on the couch, and neither did she. She arranged herself to get as comfortable as she could, Aedion silently elevating her knee and helping her adjust however he could.

  
“I’m going to get your stuff out of the car. I’ll be right back,” he said quietly. Aelin laid her head against the couch and closed her eyes in a response. She heard him sigh, followed by footsteps and a door closing quietly.

  
Her chest, her heart, ached so hard she thought she could die from an actual broken heart. Her fingers rotated the engagement ring she’d worn for the last week, worn and thought she might never take off. She would never love someone the way she loved Sam. Her Sam. Her Sam was dead, buried under the ground. Aelin couldn’t get herself to go to the funeral for him or her parents. Aelin refused to remember them as anything other than those final moments of all of them laughing in the car on the way to dinner. The thought of seeing their lifeless bodies, mere shells of the people they had once been, had made her so nauseous she had actually thrown up. She had heaved and heaved until there was nothing left. And to think all of that had been three weeks ago.

  
She had been told that her Injuries were substantial and life threatening. Her brain had swollen so much that they had had to drill burr holes into her skull to relieve the pressure. They still weren’t too sure if it would have any lasting effects, though for now she seemed to be in the clear. Her seatbelt had bruised her badly across her chest, cutting into her breasts so hard she had stitches where the rough fabric had been. She had been in surgery for six hours while they worked to set her broken bones, reduce the swelling on her brain, and repaired her Internal organs from all the bleeding. She’d suffered a collapsed lung, and that had been the main reason, apart from her brain, as to why she had been in the hospital for so long. After surgery, Aelin had remained unconscious for a week. When Aedion had told her that, she’d realized exactly why he’d looked so horrible when she woke up. Her cousin had sat next to her bed for the entire first week, not leaving for anything.

  
The front door opened, then closed as Aedion returned, sitting on the coffee table as he dug through her backpack. His hair was pulled into a messy bun, and his dark circles weren’t any better than they’d been when she woke up. In fact, they maybe looked worse. Despite her encouragement, he’d never left her side during her hospital stay. He even showered in her hospital bathroom. The only time he ever even left her hospital room was when Lysandra managed to convince him to go to the cafeteria for food, and even that took extra convincing from Aelin. Now, Aedion gave her two pills - one for anxiety and one for pain. She gladly took them, popping them in her mouth and swallowing them down with a gulp of water.

  
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she said quietly, resting her hand on his forearm. He had lost as much as she had. Evalin and Rhoe had been stand in parents for him, he’d never known his father and his mother died when he was young. Now, Aelin realized with a start, Aedion had lost two moms and a father. Two fathers, really. Considering he’d never had one to begin with. The thought of what Aedion had lost, too, in that car crash had her heart tearing into another piece. She never would have thought It possible, that her heart could break even more, but here she was. “Thank you for taking care of me.” The voice that came out of her was shaking, threatening to completely crumble. Aedion merely shrugged and gave her a tight smile. He leaned forward and kissed her hair.

  
“You would do it for me,” he said back, fluffing her pillow behind her head. She laid her head against it and nodded. Of course she would. He was her best friend, her confidant. They were more than cousins, they were inseparable since Aelin had been born. “Get some rest.”

  
Aelin closed her eyes, breathing deep and waited for the pills to sweep her away from reality, but it took too long and her thoughts had started to slip away when the door opened again. Based on the click of heels against wood, Aelin knew Lys was home.

  
“Hi baby,” she heard Lys’ voice murmur, followed by what she was sure a tight lipped grin from Aedion. Lysandra was one of her best friends, and she was thrilled that she had fallen in love with Aedion, but right now, only a month out of losing Sam… “How is she?” Lys Inquired. Aedion sighed.

  
“She is awake,” Aelin grumbled, and Lysandra let out a short laugh and walked to where she lay on the couch. Lys sat on the edge of a cushion, running one of her hands across Aelin’s hair. Despite Aelin’s rough appearance, Lysandra smiled.

  
“I hope your eye heals soon, Its creepy,” she noted. Aelin’s blood vessels in her right eye had all burst, and even though her entire eye wasn’t bloody anymore, about half of it still looked horrible, but made her turquoise and gold eyes stand out all the more. “What can I do to help you?” Lys asked, taking her hand in hers. Aelin shrugged and shook her head, eyes immediately filling and spilling over with tears. Lysandra pulled her into a hug, cradling her head as Aelin sobbed against her. Aedion slid behind Aelin, his heart aching for her. The fire that she had always had seemed to be snuffed out. This girl before him that was always full of snark, laughter, and banter was empty and hopeless. He knew the month that she’d been healing seemed like a lifetime, and she still had a lifetime to go. She was 22, and had lost her parents and her boyfriend - who no doubt would have been her fiancé if they had made it to dinner - all on the same day. How do you come back from that? He didn’t know, and judging by the way Aelin continued to sob, neither did she.

 


	2. Raise Hell.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Young blood, Heaven need a sinner.  
> You can’t raise hell with a saint.  
> Young blood came to start a riot  
> Don’t care what your old man say.” 
> 
> SONG: Raise Hell by Dorothy  
> Aedion has a lot to say about what Aelin is doing with her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends! Hello!
> 
> It’s super important that you read this before continuing on. My initial summary promised a different story. It’s a story that I still very much want to write, and have written about 10 chapters for, however, there is a different story that while writing the original plot has just been PULLING at me. I’ve spent hours scribbling in actual notebooks for this idea that I can’t not write anymore, and the more that I dive into this story, the more I needed it to go with this tragedy in Aelin’s life. Some of the initial elements are still the same - but there are tons of new elements, a completely different plot, etc, that I am so excited to keep writing. I hope you guys enjoy this new idea as much as I do. 
> 
> This chapter is also a bit short, sorry about that! I’ll post another very soon. I can’t stop writing this story. 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @highqueenofelfhame <3

TWO YEARS LATER.

The crowd surrounding the pit was losing their mind. It was just about all I could hear, the white noise of cheers filling the space between my ears. It was a weird sensation, because it’s almost when the world felt the most quiet; me, down in this hole, getting the shit beat out of me, or beating the shit out of someone else. It’s funny how the brain works.

My teeth sang as the brute in front of me connected his fist with my jaw. The vibration seemed to ring through my entire head as I clenched it, and pain shot up my head and down my neck. That was going to be a pretty bruise tomorrow. Steadying myself with one hand against the wall, I wiped at the blood dripping from my lip and bounced on my toes. I took a moment to watch his body language, then threw out a fake punch to my right. The action made him jump to his left, but I was there first as I dropped to the ground and kicked his legs out from under him. His back had barely hit the dirt before I was on top of him, sitting on his chest with my knees digging into his arms as I punched his face over and over. Someone behind me was yelling for him to tap out, but he wouldn’t, so I shoved his head back by his hair, exposing his neck. With my free arm, I began applying as much pressure as I could without letting his arms slip free. His legs flailed behind me, and then he was finally tapping out against my thigh.

With pride, I rolled off of him and screamed loudly, thrusting a fist in the air. He lay coughing on the dirt of the pit, and several people around the arena groaned. They had just lost a lot of money. Something about being a girl going up against any man always got me betted against.

I grabbed the first hand I could and pulled myself up out of the bit, grimacing as pain shot through my hand and ribs. My jaw didn’t feel too great either, but I offered the stranger a – _shit._ I’d been caught, almost literally red handed.

“Aelin,” Aedion ground out, pulling me away from the pit by the elbow. My brows shot up and I grinned, trying to stay aloof like it didn’t matter that he was here, but I instantly hissed in pain. Yeah, my jaw was definitely deeply bruised, if not broken.

“Cousin!” I said cheerfully, tapping the bar twice to signify that I’d like a beer. Within seconds, the barkeep slid the bottle down to me, and I took a long drink. Aedion’s eyes never left me, and I didn’t dare back down first. He was going to kick my ass.

“Let’s go,” his voice was a near growl as he gripped my elbow again, pulling me toward the door. I scowled, but high-fived several of the bars patrons on my way out. A few of them clapped me on the back, congratulating me on my win. I jerked away from Aedion long enough to snatch up my winnings from the night, then followed him out into the chilled January air. A man opened the door for a black sedan as we approached and I slid in.

“Jeeves,” I cheekily greeted the man, who didn’t even acknowledge me with an eye roll. “Gods, you people are stiff.”

“Orynth General, please Gatlin,” Aedion settled back against the chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. I rolled my eyes dramatically. I didn’t need to go to the hospital. I could go home, let my injuries heal, and get on my way and on with my life. But no, Aedion here had to play super hero and swoop in every few weeks at whatever fight I was in and then drag me off to the doctor as if hoping they’d declare me insane so he could shove me off somewhere and not have to worry about me anymore.

“My apartment, please, Gatlin,” I countered.

“He only takes orders from me.” That remark earned me a snort. Lights blurred by while we drove through downtown Orynth, making our way to the most prestigious hospital probably in all of Erilea. If I’d finished med school, I would have gone there for my internship. I’d graduated valedictorian of my undergraduate pre-med studies. They would have been lucky to have me in four years, or whatever it was anymore. That was a different life ago. That was an entirely different woman ago.

When the car came to a stop in front of the emergency room doors, I got out. It was better to be obedient than to fight it at this point. I don’t know how many times Aedion had pulled me here, furious about the fighting. Dozens, at least. If they didn’t use digital charts, I knew my chart would be _multiple_ folders by now. I was here so often, in fact, that when I walked in they just immediately called for the doctor and began signing me in. When your parents were as powerful as mine had been – you didn’t have to wait for anything.

It didn’t take long before I was ushered back into a room with the privacy of it’s own door. Aedion didn’t say anything, just sat down in the chair next to the bed and simmered in his anger. I didn’t say anything, either, only winced when the blood pressure cuff got a little too tight. The nurse continued on checking my vitals, even as the doctor breezed in through the door, in all his six foot four glory. The tattoo that curled up the side of his neck and jaw peeked above the white of his jacket, and when he looked at me, he sighed heavily. I shrugged.

“What’ll it be today, Aelin?” He drawled in his smooth, purr of an accent. He stopped in front of me, running his fingers along my jaw delicately, murmuring about a jaw x-ray to the nurse. I didn’t make so much as a peep while he held my wrist in his hands, thumbs tracing gentle circles over the already bruising points. When he attempted to flatten out my hand against his, I hissed in pain. His brow arched. “If you’d punch correctly with your left hand, it might not hurt so bad.”

“If she didn’t punch, it wouldn’t hurt at all,” Aedion growled. Dr. Whitethorn glanced at him over my shoulder and shrugged.

“But we know that she won’t stop so there’s no point with wishful thinking when we can hopefully help to prevent the injury,” he said softly. A bit of shock roiled through me – usually he was on Aedion’s side, but it sounded like he’d given up. Good. Maybe Aedion would, too. He nodded at me. “Your shirt.” I lifted my shirt off and dropped it on the ground next to me, leaving my arms raised so he could examine my ribs. When his fingers brushed over the bruising on the left side, I shivered. Dr. Whitethorn sighed, giving the nurse a list of x-rays he wanted me to have done. The nurse swept me out of the room in a wheel chair, and I didn’t say much else until he came back with the results.

“Two fractured ribs, three broken fingers, a broken metatarsal bone, broken wrist. All on your left side. The jaw fracture, not much we can do about. It’ll stay bruised and swollen for awhile, but you know that.” Gauze was being wrapped around my left wrist and hand delicately before he walked back over to a drawer and pulled out a black ace-looking bandage. My eyes narrowed when he wet the bandage, and I groaned audibly.  
“Let’s not be dramatic, Whitethorn. I don’t need a hard cast,” I hissed, but he shook his head at me.

“Did you complete your medical degree? Because I was under the impression that you didn’t. If you don’t want to suffer the consequences, Aelin Galathynius, then you ought not get into bar fights,” Whitethorn drawled. Next to me, Aedion snorted.

“It wasn’t a bar fight. It was semi-organized and I won,” I boasted. Whitethorn’s eyes rolled.

“This time you won. You don’t protect your left side, and at some point someone is going to notice. If I give you the name of a gym, will you go and let him train you? If you’re going to fight you might as well be proper at it,” his words were clipped, like he was annoyed with me. My shoulders shrugged. The smell of the cast tickled my nose – it wasn’t a bad smell, but it was one I’d always associate with hard casts I’d worn three times now. “No more fighting until this comes off,” he warned, pressing the seam of the cast down and holding it for a few moments until it dried.

“Okay,” I agreed, my eyes shifting to Aedion. He seemed to sag in relief, and I hopped off the counter, tugging my shirt back over my head. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you in three weeks. We’ll see about taking it off,” he was scribbling on a prescription pad as he spoke, which he ripped off and handed to me. It was the good shit. His fingers brushed mine as he tucked a second piece of paper into my hand, and I glanced at it. It had a name, Fenrys, and a phone number sketched below it. In call caps he had written “CALL HIM” as if he would know if I disobeyed and didn’t. He probably would. Dr. Whitethorn knew a lot without my saying. Probably because of Aedion.

  
Aedion followed me up the stairs to my apartment, silent as ever. He dropped onto my dark couch and ran his hands through his blonde hair, then roughly twisted it into a bun at the back of his head. It wasn’t often that Aedion didn’t have much to say, and when he didn’t it was because he was fuming. My cousin was absolutely furious with me, and every single muscle in his body was tense enough to prove it.

“Aedion, I –“ Head shaking, he held up a single finger as he turned to look at me. That finger was shaking too. Shit. “Listen-“

“You LIVED, Aelin. Nobody understands why, but you are the one that lived. Sam would have gone on and finished school and been the best godsdamned lawyer this country had ever seen. If your parents had lived? They would have kept making breakthroughs in security and technology and making the world a better place to live in. But you? Gods above, you quit med school. You won’t help with Galathynius Industries or Ashryver Technologies. You won’t choose something else to study. Instead, I find you in those cesspools getting the shit beat out of you and for what? What in the hell are you accomplishing? You live in this shit apartment, take shitty jobs just to barely graze by. Sam didn’t deserve to die, your parents didn’t, and you know damn well I don’t know what I would have done without you. But whatever gods are up there decided you got another chance and your mom and dad, _Sam_ didn’t and gods-be-damned you are _wasting it_ ,” he hissed at me, his face frozen with rage. Heat flooded my entire body. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but stare out my window at the city below me. It didn’t take long before hot tears were spilling down my face, dripping onto my neck and my blood-stained shirt. My whole body was shaking, and Aedion was just staring at me. His hands were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. After a few minutes, he seemed to soften, when my sobs turned into gasps for air, and When he moved to take a step toward me, I stepped back, my hands up in front of my body in defense.

“Get out,” my voice was barely above a whisper. He took another step toward me but I pointed at the door. “OUT, Aedion. Get OUTGETOUTGETOUT,” my eyes were shut so tightly that I only knew he was gone by the click of the door, and once I was alone, nothing stopped me from crumpling onto the floor and sobbing until my throat was raw. 


	3. Tightrope.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aelin meets someone that worked with her father, and gets a message from someone from the past. 
> 
> “I’m fighting with gravity,  
> Trying not to fall.  
> But how come the ones we love can make us  
> Feel so small?”  
> Tightrope - The Score.

Fresh snow crunched beneath my feet as I walked. It was mid-January and the snow in Terrasen probably wouldn’t let up until early March. When spring came, the terrain would thaw and melt and spring would bloom across the country. Until then, however, my fingers would stay numb, my nose would stay pink, and the rest of my body would be perpetually frozen like the worm I am.    
  
Checking my phone for the address one more time, I crossed the street at a jog and pushed my way into the gym. My nose crinkled with the smell of sweat, rubber, and a third layer I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Laundry, maybe? But buried under the other scents, it didn’t smell quite as fresh. Mirrors lined the walls with racks of hand weights and benches along them. Several of those benches were occupied by large men lifting triple and quadruple my own body weight. A boxing ring was up in the center, empty for now, with a pair of gloves dangling from one of the wires. Beyond that, I could make out several punching bags, and to my right there was an excess of other workout equipment, some occupied by massive men that were clearly able to throw me across the room. Maybe even across the street.    
  
I shoved my good hand into my pocket, my casted hand rested in front of my stomach. It had only been a few days, and my face was still discolored with shades of blue, black, yellow, and green. I wasn’t, I admit, the most attractive I’d ever been. At that exact moment, I regretted coming before letting my face heal when I caught sight of the man leaning against the counter to my left. Shit. He was hot.   
  
“Hi, I’m looking for-“   
  
“Fenrys? You found him.” The man hopped up to sit on the counter, a wide grin spreading across his lips. Yeah, fuck. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, ever would see, so help me, gods. I nodded, stepping toward the bronze giant. He was probably close to being as tall as Aedion, and he had similar golden hair, but that’s where all similarities stopped. He was even buffer than Aedion, his entire body corded with muscle similar to Dr. Whitethorn. His tan skin glowed with sweat, and his curly hair was in a knot on the top of his head. His face was…beautiful. Perfect? Jesus, I couldn’t stop staring. He noticed, and winked and stuck out his hand, unfortunately, it was the wrong hand and I wasn’t able to shake that hand because of the giant cast on my arm. Thanks a lot, Whitethorn. I held my hand up with a flat smile.   
  
“Aelin,” I stuck my other hand out, and he took it, shaking it gently.    
  
“What can I do for you, Aelin Galathynius?” My brows shot up on my forehead. “I was in your father’s private security for a few years,” he explained, his smile fading. “After the accident I left the company,” his eyes darted to the floor before coming back to my eyes. I nodded, keeping the grimace off my face. I turned my body away slightly and quickly changed the subject. 

  
“Dr. Whitethorn is going to kick my ass if I don’t get better with my left hand and at protecting my left side in general,” I said quickly, wanting to stop the incoming condolences in their tracks. “He said you were the best,” I quipped in a challenging tone. Fenrys snorted.    
  
“I doubt Whitethorn called me best at anything, except being annoying, but I appreciate the flattery,” He chuckled. “I’d love to help you out, but I can’t do much for you while your arm is in that thing,” he said, motioning to my cast. I nodded, letting out a sigh. “Is it self defense?” He asked, eyes furrowed with concern peering at my bruises. 

  
“No,” I said flatly, ignoring the questioning gaze.

  
“Alright,” He said. “Well, come back by when he lets you out of that thing. We can start then.”   
  


“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said and turned to leave. Hesitating, I looked back once more to the golden haired beauty. “You really worked for my dad?” His brows raised slightly. “I just don’t recognize you and I was familiar with most of his security.” I remembered all the hulking men that would rotate for dad’s security team. I definitely would have noticed him, he wasn’t exactly subtle. Fenrys inhaled, crossing his ankles and leaning back on his palms. He truly was beautiful, every line of his body called to me to touch, to feel.    
  
“I was a very…specialized private security for your father. Maybe I can tell you about it sometime,” he said, but his body language had tensed. I only nodded, and turned away, leaving the smell and noise behind with the man. 

 

 

  
  
Being broken and bandaged sucked. It was why Aedion dragged me to Whitethorn every time he caught me. Regardless of fighting in the worst taverns with men that had murdered people, the clubs all refused to let me fight. It was one of the few rules that places like this had. Men were already skeptical of women and how well they could hold their own, the pigs, but the tavern owners fucked up moral compass somehow drew the line at fighting with anything more than a moderate injury. 

  
“Your hand is broken, Galathynius. You can’t fight.”   
  
“Sure I can. Maybe it will make it a fair fight,” I’d countered, ever the swaggering bitch. “Plus it’s been like a week, I’m fine.” The man handling the fight roster merely shook his head, nodding toward a table in the back. Seated at that table was a man I did my best to avoid, Arobynn Hamel, and much to my dismay, one of his men had me by the elbow and was guiding me back to where he sat. Objecting was pointless, I’d end up at that table because Arobynn wanted me there. He wasn’t too much older than me, in his mid thirties at the latest. He had auburn hair and, currently, a clean cut beard. Arobynn was handsome, but he was dangerous, and I tried to avoid running into him at all. Tonight, I had failed. I blame the broken hand and the need for gin.    
  
The man escorting me nearly shoved me into the seat across from his boss, a hiss escaping my mouth as I caught myself on my left hand. 

“Always so eager, my love.” Arobynn drawled, eyes scanning my bruises and tongue clicking in mock sadness. His hand reached out and traced the bruise along my jaw, his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. I refused to let him scent the fear on me, so I leaned back as casual as I could, crossing my legs under the table and cocking my head to the side. “What is it that you’re trying to prove?” 

  
“I’m trying to get better. I can’t do that when I’m getting turned down.”    
  
“I can make you better,” He purred, moving from his side of the table to slide onto the bench next to me. His lips brushed my ear. I tried not to let him see that I tensed, but he was so close I knew he had felt my body go rigid the moment his arm draped behind my shoulders. Arobynn was a mob boss and from what I understood, he even had a team of assassins at the disposal of the highest bidder. Was that what he wanted me to be? I was too old to train for that, I was sure. At 24, you don’t start very many careers that rely on your body being young and spry. Not to mention that I didn’t think I quite had it in me to be a murderer for sport.    
  
“I’ve already found someone to train me,” I said, brushing my hair over my shoulder as if it would be a wall between us.    
  
“It’s your left side that’s weak,” he said simply. As quickly as I blinked,  a steak knife was stabbed through the center of my right hand, burying itself into the mahogany table beneath. His freckled hand pressed to my mouth as I screamed, my eyes wide and frantic. What the fuck what the fuck whatthefuck. The knife twisted, and I felt dizzy when I looked at the damage he had caused. Blood poured out, tendons felt utterly demolished. The feeling of every nerve, every piece of cartilage and tendon. The sound the knife made against my flesh made my stomach roll. The pressure of the blade against the bones in my hand was enough to make me feel faint. I could feel the wood of the table splintering into my hand as the knife was wriggled back and forth. The mangled flesh at the top of my hand had my eyes seeing black spots around the room, my eyes frantically searching for someone, _anyone_ to help me. 

 

Unsatisfied, Arobynn pulled it out, turned it slightly, then pushed it back in, the knife destroying another path through my hand in its wake. I couldn’t think through the pain, it clawed up my arm and into my shoulder. My blood roared in my ears and I could have sworn I’d started seeing red. Arobynn clicked his tongue a few times and then pulled the knife out. The silver, serrated blade dripped with my dark red blood, and the sheer agony I felt only got worse when I tried to lift it off the table. 

 

When I opened my eyes what could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours later, Hamel was gone. I shoved out of the booth, clutching my still bleeding hand to my body. As I ran out of the tavern, I ripped my scarf off my neck and wrapped my hand tightly, screaming at the pain that exploded through the right side of my body. I was too far from my apartment to get home, however…Fenrys’ gym was only a few blocks away.   
  
I scooped up some snow in my casted hand and sprinkled it down into the wound, hoping the ice cold would bring some sort of relief to my ruined flesh. I was dizzy, but it was more to do with the shock of it all than the blood loss and pain.   
  
I ran down the street, slipping on ice twice but I couldn’t stop. I had to get away from that tavern. I had to get away from Arobynn Hamel. My feet didn’t stop, even when I stumbled they kept pushing and pushing until I was shoving my way through the door of the gym.   
  
A massive man stood in the center of the room, and I ran to him, touching his arm and mouthing for Fenrys. He looked confused, and a little disgusted. “Please tell me where Fenrys is,” I stuttered out, my breath coming out in gasps. He glanced around, then pointed to a door in the back corner of the room. I stumbled from him, leaving him frowning at the blood I left on his sleeve. When I stumbled into the door he had indicated, I accidentally smeared more blood all over the white wood and the silver handle, but I pushed myself inside.   
  
Fenrys took one look at my pale, red and puffy face and was in front of me in an instant.   
  
“My dad trusted you?” I forced out.  
  
“With his life,” he said. I nodded and thrusted my hand to him, breathing deeply as he undid the makeshift bandage. Thankfully, it was black, so it wouldn’t stain too horribly. I was going to burn it, anyway. “What the fuck happened?”  
  
“Arobynn Hamel,” I croaked, my hand looked even worse now than it had when I left. “This place was the closest I could get to. I ran here. I don’t have my phone, I didn’t want Aedion to find me, I just, I need help. Please help me. Please,” I was rambling, and his fingers were still carefully assessing my hand. Fenrys guided me to a chair and sat me down, then grabbed his phone and began pressing the screen quickly. My head rested against the wall and I closed my eyes, focusing on breathing. Focusing on my heartbeat in my ears. Focusing on anything but my bloodied and ruined hand. I could hear Fenrys murmuring in his phone, but I was too consumed in pain to pay attention to much else. Eventually, he kneeled in front of me, running his hands over my hair. Gods, these people were such gentle giants.   
  
Fenrys stayed in front of me, doing his best to soothe me for what felt like hours. Eventually, I heard a new voice, one I recognized, and I forced my eyes to open as Dr. Rowan Whitethorn swept into the room. He carried a doctor’s bag and took Fenrys’ place in front of me. Rowan’s cool fingers assessed my hand, running along palm and fingers. His face was all harsh lines and anger, I could practically feel it rippling off of him.   
  
“Hamel did this to you.”   
  
“Yes,” I whispered. Rowan shook his head and opened his bag, pulling out a long syringe.   
  
“I’m going to numb it and wrap it until we can get you to hospital,” he said looking into my glazed eyes before focusing back on the ruined flesh. “Gods above I might have to operate there’s no telling how much damage that bastard did,” he mumbled the last part, but I heard him loud and clear. A mere nod for a response was all I was capable to give.   
  
I hissed when the syringe invaded my skin. He stuck me in three separate places, and a burning like I’d never felt before exploded where the medicine touched. I cried out, reaching to grip what I could of Fenrys’ fingers despite my cast. It was like liquid fire had been injected under my skin. Until the pain subsided, and my hand felt nothing at all.   
  


  
When I woke, I was in the hospital. I didn’t remember much from the car ride, only that Fenrys held me and my hand stable the whole way there. Through the window in the door, I could see him leaning against the nurse station, talking to Dr. Whitethorn. I pressed the nurse call button, and Rowan’s eyes immediately darted to my door. He moved quickly into the white walled room, Fenrys on his heels.    
  
“You’re awake,” Fen sighed in relief. He must have loved my father to care at all that I’d merely opened my eyes. Rowan smiled tightly.    
  
“We had to reconstruct your hand. You’ll need physical therapy but there wasn’t anything I couldn’t fix. It’ll take a while to heal, though,” he explained. I nodded, silently wondering how the hell I was going to do anything with a cast on one hand and a hole in the other. 

 

It had come to my realization that Arobynn Hamel had done this to me so I could strengthen my left side. It was his twisted way of doing me a favor. 

 

I would train and work on my weakness, because I needed to. But I was done fighting in cesspools and I decided then that I would only train with Fenrys at the gym. I would stop being irresponsible with my safety. I needed to call Aedion.    
  
  
Wearing black jeans, a long sleeved white t-shirt, and a denim jacket, I slipped out of the car my cousin had sent for me. I paused on the curb, staring up at the massive glass building of the companies my parents owned. Two solid towers next to each other with multiple sky bridges linking them together. They’d been built a year after the merger, a few years after my parents got married. It was so they could be their own entities in a way, have their own spaces, but also work together in the ways they needed. I wrapped a piece of my golden hair around my finger and took a deep breath as I walked through the front doors.    
  
It looked exactly the same, the lobby encased by black walls and white marble flooring. The receptionists desk was dark washed oak. Behind her, on either side of the giant aquarium in the center of the room, there were security checkpoints that everyone had to clear before going anywhere else in the building. I approached the girl at the desk and she glanced at me.    
  
“By appointment only, sorry,” she said typing away on her computer.    
  
“What makes you think I don’t have one?”   
  
“You hardly look dressed for a business meeting with the most powerful people in this city. Maybe even the country,” she said with an eye roll. I watched her gaze, wiggling my finger with impatience while they hung in a sling around my neck.    
  
“Why don’t you tell Aedion Ashryver I’m here. It’ll clear things up.”    
  
“Mr. Ashryver is incredibly bus-“ I sighed loudly, knowing this was getting nowhere.    
  
“But not too busy for Miss. Ashryver Galathynius,” I leaned over her desk and plucked a visitor badge and walked toward the security.   
  
“You can’t do that!” I snorted, and the security guard stepped to the side, holding the elevator open for me. As the doors slid closed, I winked at the girl, who was gaping hopelessly from her desk.    
  
When the doors slid open on the executive floor, I was greeted with more white marble floors and glass conference rooms to either side of me. All the furnishings were a sleek, glossy black, the chairs black leather. Decadent floral centerpieces donned the conference room tables, and just about every other flat table top. At the end of the walk to the left, the door to Aedion’s office was shut. Glancing at my phone, I saw that it was only 9:40. Aedion wouldn’t be out of a meeting for twenty minutes, so I made quick work of picking the lock to his office and dropping my body into his chair. I picked up some of the documents on the desk, skimming the words on the page. My fingers traced over the filigree on the desk, a desk that had once been my fathers, and in tracing over one of the curves, I noticed a notch. That was weird.    
  
Slipping out of the chair, I dropped onto my knees and traced the same line, finding that notch in the otherwise glossy, black wood. There was a circle inside the curve, which didn’t match the pattern and design on the other side of the desk. I peered at it curiously, pushing in on the circle when to my surprise, it popped out. A small gasp slipped past my lips and I pulled out the little piece of wood, inside of which a piece of parchment was rolled up. My brow furrowed together as I unraveled it, the texture foreign and rough in my hands. People didn’t write on parchment anymore, but go figure my dad still had surprises from the grave, because scribbled on that piece of parchment in his slanted hand,   
  
_ The answers lie in the final resting place. We love you, our darling fireheart.  _ __  
  
My throat felt choked up as I sank back into Aedion’s chair, just in time for him to step into his office. My eyes brimmed with tears – I hadn’t seen dad’s writing in so long. I hadn’t been called fireheart in so long. More surprise still, when Aedion kneeled before me, searching my eyes with his.    
  
“Fireheart? Why do you cry?” At that, I let out a violent sob and dropped my head against his shoulder, grief and pain wracking through my body. What were the odds? What were the odds that I’d find this note and Aedion would call me that at the same moment? Slim to none. I would know. I was Queen of slim to none odds.    
  
“Have you seen this?” I thrust the piece of parchment to his hands and his confused demeanor matched my own. I pushed the piece of wood back into its place in his desk, then pushed it again, showing him how it pulled out. He stood, leaning against the desk and glancing around the room in thought. But I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I have to go.”   
  
“Go where? I thought you were going to sign the papers today!”   
  
“Aedion, I’ll do it, not today but I’ll take my place in the company. I swear it, I just…I think they left me a message they left me something I have to figure out what it is. I’m sorry,” most of the words came out a jumbled mess, and I wasn’t even sure he’d caught most of it. “I love you,” I shot over my shoulder as I ran down the hall, practically sprinting to the elevator. 

 

What the hell kind of secret did my parents have that they had to hide the only clue in a desk where I may potentially not find it? I had no idea, but I guessed I was going to find out.    
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SO EXCITED! You guys, this story has been read almost 300 times, and that’s SO COOL TO ME! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story, and to keep coming back chapter to chapter. 
> 
> ALSO - Massive thank you to my beta, Aven, for getting through this chapter and helping me smooth out the kinks. I can’t even begin to say thank you enough to her and how sweet she’s been and how much I loved all the suggestions and tweaks she helped me make. 
> 
> Happy reading!


	4. Glitter & Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Risky business tbh.

My mind was racing as I sped back to the manor. I hadn’t been back since before the accident and had no idea what sort of disarray the property left to me was in. Though Aedion and Lysandra had been staying there off and on, and I knew the staff was still keeping to the grounds despite my absence. 

 

I pulled up to the gate set at the end of the street and punched my code in hastily. My fingers tapped restlessly against my leg as the scripted ‘A’ and ‘G’ swung apart. The descent down the long gravel path felt like forever, even though I was driving entirely too fast and taking the turns at dangerous speeds. I followed the path around back, screeching to a stop at the far end of the property where a massive mausoleum stood, draping a long shadow over the walkway leading up to it. The family crypt. I hated the thing growing up, honestly still did. How fucking disturbing it was to have the dead bodies of my ancestors in my backyard. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been into it, perhaps when Uncle Orlon died and we had the funeral. I hadn’t visited my parents bodies. 

  
When I entered the tomb, I glanced around at the tall marbled room, tracing my fingers over the names of those long since dead. Near the back, I came to my mothers name, and then my fathers shortly after. Though I had mourned them in my own way, it took all I had not to sink to my knees and give them a proper farewell. Neither would be angry at me for putting it off a little longer. I glanced behind me, my eyes falling to Sam’s name. I’d refused to let him rest anywhere but here, with family. But seeing his name etched into the marble wall of the dead was something I’d never quite prepared myself for.   
  
I think I had mourned my parents from the moment that they died. My heart ached constantly. I missed them everyday. But I don’t think I ever came to terms with what happened to Sam. He visited me in the most vivid of dreams; just waltzing through our door and whisking me into his arms. When I woke, it was always a shock to realize I was in bed, alone, and he wouldn’t be coming back. Sam was supposed to live this life with me. Sam and I were supposed to be married, maybe expecting a baby by now. We’d spent days, weeks, months, talking time and time again about the children we would have. If they would have Ashryver or Cortland eyes. 

 

We’d joked tirelessly that I wasn’t ever giving up my names, as was custom when you came from Noble birth. My name would have become Aelin Ashryver Cortland Galathynius, his Sam Cortland Galathynius. We’d wanted so many babies, both of us dying to give our children what we’d not had growing up. Sure, we’d had each other, and I had Aedion always, but sometimes being an only child got lonely. Our children would never be alone. When my parents died peacefully at an old age, I was supposed to have Sam to lean on, our children’s laughter to brighten the darker days. I had none of that. My future was wiped clean from the board and I was unable to even imagine what tomorrow would look like usually.    
  
Seeing Sam’s name, his birthday, his death date, immortalized in marble struck a chord so deep, deep enough to wake up feelings that I hadn’t felt it in quite some time. It was enough to have me stumble back against my fathers own immortalized name, and I silently begged him for forgiveness for leaning against his tomb that way. I couldn’t stop the hot tears that streamed down my face, freezing my cheeks further in the winter wind coming in through the open doors.    
  
I’m not sure how long I stayed like that, leaning against the cold marble with my knees to my chest, sobbing and grieving for Sam, even for my parents, in a way that I didn’t often allow. After awhile, I brushed my tears away and stood, stumbling over my shoelace as I did. I threw my hand out for balance, my fingers shoving against the cold marble letters.    
  
And then I heard a click. I jerked my hand back from the iciness of that wall, just in time for the “o” in my father's name to push out a hollow marble cylinder. I pulled it out, examining it. Just like the one I had found in the desk, there was another tightly folded piece of paper inside, containing a single name. Behind the empty cylinder there was a lock where the piece of the “o” had been. But not like a normal lock. It belonged to one of those old, Victorian style keys. I didn’t have any key as intricate as the one that would open such a lock. The name though… it was a name I had saved in my phone merely days ago.   
  
Less than an hour later, Fenrys’ car came to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the manor. I sat on the bottom one, my injured hands draped over my knees lazily. My leg bounced anxiously as he approached me, his broad hands slipping into his pockets. When he was close enough, I extended my casted hand to him, the slip of paper between two fingers. His brows raised, and he took the piece of paper, and instantly let out a whoosh of air.    
  
“You found it,” he said, brushing his fingers along the ink. The paper only read his name, in my father's messy but elegant script. When he finally raised his eyes to mine, he pulled his keys from his pocket and fumbled with the loop for a moment before extending a key to me. A key that looked like it would slip into that lock perfectly. I ran my fingers over the design at the end of the key, following the swirls and curls before I glanced back at Fenrys.    
  
“What is it? What does this unlock?” I inquired, biting my bottom lip. My concern of it rolling out my father's coffin was minimal; Dad would never in a million years make me have to open his coffin with his decaying body inside.    
  
“It’ll be easier to just show you,” he said, glancing to the mausoleum. 

  
“Will you be less cryptic once I see it?” At that, Fenrys let out a laugh.   
  
“Yes. You’ll have a lot of questions, I’m sure. And I’m really the only one that’ll be able to answer much of anything for you.” He took a step back, nodding his head in the direction of the mausoleum. Understanding, I stood and followed the pathway to the back yard, leading him back to the cold marble building. My fingers fumbled with the key in my hands, and my stomach fluttered when I thought about whatever was waiting for me.    
  
I paused in the door way. My feet simply just didn’t want me to keep going, but Fenrys’ hand on my lower back reassured me enough to walk back in, all the way down to my fathers name. I still had the center of the “o” in my pocket, so the keyhole remained exposed. I stuck the key in and turned it, expecting the marble to swing open. It didn’t. But down to my left, further into the building, I heard grinding and groaning from somewhere in the walls. My eyes flitted from Fenrys to the wall and back, and with a final click, a piece of the wall shorter than Fen pushed out from the wall. My brows shot up in surprise and I walked down to it, hesitating for a moment before trying to pull the door open, but I couldn’t get it with two completely ruined hands. Fenrys stepped in, pulling it back with both hands, and I realized that regardless of my broken hands, it would be difficult to open. It was a six inch thick slab of marble, after all.    
  
I didn’t know how to feel as I peered around Fenrys into the dark black hole in the wall. My heart was thundering so loud I was certain he could hear it, and he slipped his hand just inside the door and flipped a switch that illuminated the inside. Wooden stairs curled down what had to be at least two floors beneath the earth. Fenrys was the first to begin his descent, the stairs creaking below his feet. I followed hesitantly, doing my best to see what lay below to absolutely no avail. Upon getting to the bottom step, Fenrys flipped another step and somewhere around twenty lights down the center of the chamber lit up.    
  
The room was massive and, full of desks and file cabinets. At the end of the room was a whiteboard and cork-boards, with words and lines crisscrossing all over, conspiracy theory style. Curiosity got the best of me, and I made my way down to the wall, my eyes moving from word to word, drinking up the information all over the wall. I took a deep breath, the pungent, earthy musk of the room filling my lungs. It forced a shiver down my spine, and despite the size of the room, I had the overwhelming feeling of being buried alive.    
  
Fenrys was still standing near the stairs, leaning against the wall, watching me intently. My fingers grazed over the papers on the desk, each file containing more and more information on various Adarlanian government officials. There was even a folder on the king himself, as well as his sons and wife. I couldn’t wrap my head around my father being some sort of spy, much less that he was a ringleader of spies. None of this made sense.   
  
I moved to another desk, opening the box of files on the desk. All of the files in it contained information on ancient artifacts from different countries, whereabouts of long lost art work. It seemed like my father had a long list of jobs I’d had no idea about, but this one made a bit more sense. My father had always loved art and history, our home had been full of both.    
  
The third desk I came to was similar to the first, but the reports here were more in depth. I flipped through a file on the king’s son, Dorian Havilliard II, my eyes grazing over photos of the handsome man with different women, with guards, laughing over a glass of champagne at some sort of a ball. Underneath the photos were handwritten reports, written in a slanted and sloppy hand. My heart squeezed, and for a moment I began to move to a different folder, then stopped. The writing was all too familiar. My mind flashed to studying in the library, Sam at my side, scribbling notes and highlighting things in his text book. With ice in my veins, I flipped open another folder, finding more photos and more handwritten reports in the same writing. It was Sam’s writing.    
  
Dropping into the chair, I pulled open the top drawer, sifting through it’s contents. My stomach flipped in my chest as I found three passports, each with Sam’s photo attached, but all with different names. My eyes fluttered to Fenrys, who had silently made his way to lean against the desk I sat at. Sam’s desk.   
  
“What in the hell is this.”   
  
“Sam was employed by your father. He wo-“   
  
“Sam was a law student. We studied together, I was at his undergrad graduation. I have his text books in my apartment.” My words were jumbled as I leaned back in the chair, grinding my palms into my eyes. Fenrys quietly scrolled through his phone, then extended it to me.    
  


In the photo, Fen had his arm around Sam’s neck, both of them laughing wildly. My father stood beside Sam, a wide grin on his face and one hand in the air as if it were blocking the sun from his eyes. My mom, my mom was there too, one of her arms wrapped around my dad’s waist as she, too, grinned, her other arm looped through Dr. Whitethorns arm. Even he smiled. On the other side of Fen, a nearly identical, but somehow harsher and less beautiful, man with shoulder length dark hair smirked. The only person in the photo that didn’t look completely overjoyed was standing a few inches away from Rowan, just as tall with just as much muscle, handsome as the devil with dark hair and tanned skin, but even he had mischief in his eyes. This photo couldn’t have been more than a handful of years old.    
  
Sucking on a tooth, I handed the phone back to Fenrys. My parents had lives that I had been completely unaware of. They had friends that I’d never met before. But why? Why hadn’t they told me any of this? They had wanted me to take over the company at some point, so why didn’t they ever share any of this with me? Did Aedion have any idea of all of this? I somehow doubted it. Growing up he had been as much in the dark about things as I had our parents always going above and beyond to protect us. I just didn’t understand then, or now really, what exactly we needed such a stronghold of protection from.    
  
Taking a deep breath, I stood and ran my hands down my stomach. This was…a lot to digest to say the least. In time I would want more answers from Fenrys, from Rowan, and their others friends, but for now I just needed to digest that my life was nothing that I thought it was. We’d been on the brink of engagement, and it turns out I didn’t even know the truth about what Sam did with his life when he wasn’t with me. I’d thought I did, but truly? I had no idea. I didn’t even know my parents as well as I’d originally thought.    
  
“Thank you for coming,” I said to him, moving toward the stairs. “I assume you can let yourself out.” I glanced over my shoulder long enough to see him nod before I disappeared up the stairs and out of sight.    
  


-

 

“Good as new,” Dr. Whitethorn murmured, dropping the remnants of my hard cast into a trash can behind him. Carefully, he ran his fingers along my hand, turning my palm toward the ceiling as he inspected it carefully. A moment later, his cool fingers were unwrapping the gauze from my other hand, then inspecting the stitches on the top and bottom of my hand. I flexed my left hand open, then closed, the full range of motion feeling almost peculiar after a few weeks without being able to use it at all.    
  
“When can the stitches come out?” I looked up at him and he narrowed his eyes slightly.    
  
“I can go ahead and remove them, but you have to let it rest for several more weeks. I don’t even necessarily want you using a pen with that hand but I’m sure you’ll find some way to defy me.” He sketched a brow, and I shrugged.    
  
“It’s not like Fenrys will let me use it when I train with him.”   
  
“He knows I’d kick his ass,” he mused, lips twitching into a smile as he kicked back against the floor, the wheels of his chair carrying him over to the counter to my right. After a moment, he rolled back over to me, small tweezers and scissors in his hands to remove the stitches. I stayed quiet while he snipped them one by one and pulled them from my skin, barely even feeling it.    
  
“You say that like you’re capable of doing so,” I snorted, having hung out out the gym a few days throughout the week to watch Fen train to see what it was I’d exactly be getting myself into. Rowan’s brows shot up, and he huffed a small laugh, and then let out a louder laugh that came from deep in his chest. His eyes flicked to mine, then back to his task at hand.    
  
“The only way that little cub would have the upper hand on me in a fight is if he had a gun and I was empty handed. And even then, I’d still win. I taught him everything he knows,” he snipped the last stitch in my palm loose and set his tools down. I carefully opened and closed my hand, wincing at the pain. Rowan disappeared from the room for a moment, only to return with a black sling and a brace. He fit the brace to my hand, then helped slip the sling over my head, adjusting the strap to where it needed to rest. There was a second strap that he wrapped around my torso, securing my arm to my body. “When you train, I’d prefer if you did so in this so you aren’t tempted to use your hand, or accidentally fight with it.”   
  
“Thank you,” I offered him a smile, remembering his face in the picture with my parents. I’d not asked him about it yet, and couldn’t bring myself to ask now, so I slipped off the table and left without saying anything else.    
  
-   
  
The sling fastened to my torso was drenched in sweat, much like the rest of my body. I bounced on my toes lightly in front of Fenrys, who was just as sweaty as I was. He’d even abandoned his shirt a few moments earlier when we’d concluded our run. Now, he was showing me a proper fighting stance, marking through where he was going to be swing at me so I could get the feel of navigating without right hand.    
  
The next half hour consisted of me ducking, swerving, and punching at his solid body, thought I seldom made contact, and when I did it was because he’d let me. He was quick to show me just how open I’d been keeping my left side. We were the only two in his gym as the sun began to set, the golden rays bouncing off his sweat covered skin had him looking…like a God, for lack of a better example. His golden curls were pulled up into a bun on the top of his head, and it suited him better than I’d like to admit.    
  
“It’s hardly a fair fight,” I argued when he told me to swing at him, but his shit-eating grin had me feinting right, and swing with my left arm as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Before I even blinked, he caught my fist in his hand, and swept his leg around the back of my legs. His other hand cradled the back of my head as our bodies collapsed onto the mat beneath our feet, his laughter shaking our bodies. “Oh, you asshole.”   
  
“Once you’re healed we’ll really work on it, I promise,” Fenrys grinned, propping his elbows on either side of my head as he looked at me. The grin faltered slightly when my fingers rested against his side, and for the first time in awhile, in over two years to be exact, I’d found myself looking up at a male with desire blooming between my legs. His eyes dropped down to my lips for a moment, and I lifted my chin slightly, almost an invitation. Carefully, slowly, his lips pressed to my chin, then the corner of my mouth. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, voice low and suddenly hoarse. The tension could have been cut with a knife, and  I could have sworn I felt his heart beating just as hard as mine was. His nose dragged along my jawline, and he pressed another kiss to my ear. Goosebumps erupted down my chest and arms, a small sigh slipping from my lips as I pressed my fingers harder into his skin. My head dropped back, exposing my throat to him, and he slowly brushed his lips across my neck. My entire body was on fire as he touched his nose to mine, and I thought I was going to explode when his tongue trace along my bottom lip. With a gasp, I parted my lips and –   
  
“Fen?” The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it as he hissed and pushed himself to his feet. I took his hand and allowed him to pull me to my feet. His hands were warm and rough, and my mind strayed to what they would feel like brushing against my thighs. When I looked over at the door to the gym, I realized it was Rowan that had interrupted, his face hard as he took in the flush of my cheeks.    
  
“Could you be a little more inconvenient with your timing, Whitethorn?” Fenrys drawled, his hand slipping from mine. I huffed a laugh as I pulled my backpack over my shoulder.    
  
“I expect you to finish what you started,” I called over my shoulder as I brushed passed Rowan, whose face was still schooled in neutrality, but Fen’s chuckle followed me out the door and down the snow covered street.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves! Don’t forget to follow my on tumblr, @highqueenofelfhame. Let me know what you think is going on in the comments! Eager to see where you think this is going.


	5. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other shoe just dropped. This chapter is also pretty long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “It’s taking time, but wounds, they heal.  
> Now you’re just a scar, a story I tell  
> Such an ugly mark, but I wear it so well.”  
> Scar by Foxes.

A few days later, I was in the hidden office, sprawled out in one of the desks. Not Sam’s. Any of them but Sam’s. My eyes were soaking up all the information in the files about the King’s son, currently. I’d met the young man on more than one occasion, so reading his files felt oddly intrusive in a way. Like I didn’t have the right to know so much because we weren’t quite that friendly.

Nearly every day since discovering the office, I’d come back and absorbed any and all information left behind. The way I saw it, my father did all of this for a reason. At some point, he had seen fit to have a network of spies gathering intel on people all over Erilea, including the royal family of Adarlan. Rhoe Galathynius wouldn’t have done all of this, kept it so secretive, if there wasn’t something to be uncovered somewhere.

The stairs creaked as weight was put down on them, and I peered around my feet, which were propped up on the desk, to see Fenrys descending with a drink carrier and brown paper bag in his hands. My brows rose in surprise, I hadn’t seen him in a few days, but I still offered a, “Hey.”

“I figured you’d be holed up down here.” He hopped up on the desk next to mine, setting a cup of coffee and the brown bag down in front of me.

“You have good timing, because I have several questions,” I said, dropping my feet to the floor and opening the bag. It was half full with an assortment of chocolate truffles. My mouth watered immediately, a soft groan slipping passed my lips. “Oh, I like you,” I said, popping one in my mouth. He grinned.

“I’m an open book.” He held his hands out, palms up, to convey just how open he was.

“How did my father rope all of you into this anyway? How did he find you, how did you get involved being a weird spy for a businessman? I don’t get it. And how did he get you guys to spy on the royal family for fucks sake?”

“Family ties. My parents grew up with your mother. So did the others. He came to me and my twin brother about five years ago, saying there were some projects he needed help with and thought we’d be good for the job. Connall was incredibly intelligent, much like Sam, and a sneaky little fuck. He could get in and out of anywhere he wanted, really. I’m charming as hell. It’s always been easy for me to get information I want from people, and our military backgrounds helped. Rowan and Lorcan both were special forces for ten years, and right before Rowan was going to enlist again, your dad offered him work. Rhoe paid much better than the military, so Lorcan joined in, too. As for Sam…Sam saw things that nobody else did. He was so gods-damned useful in everything we did.” When he finished talking, I quietly took in his words. It didn’t slip by me that he’d spoken of his brother in the past tense, as though he was now dead. That made the majority of the original little cadre down to just Fenrys, Rowan, and Lorcan. My mother, my father, Sam, and his twin, had all died.

“How did your brother…?”

“Car accident. Not too long after yours, actually,” he said, his full lips now a narrow line. Fenrys reaches forward and snagged one of the coffees from the desk, staring at it for a moment before lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. My stomach sank, seeing how hopeless his face looked. It hurt that he, too, knew that feeling of loss all too well. Anxiously, my foot bounced as I grasped his hand in mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze that he returned.

“Why dig into the royal family? What prompted that?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and shuffling through the photos of Dorian Havilliard.

“Your dad thought the king was involved in something horrible. I never knew why, mostly because what royal family isn’t involved in something horrible? Bloodshed and tragedy follow most royal families anyway. And it isn’t like there’s a single government that isn’t into some fucked up shit,” he offered with a shrug. I tapped my fingers on the desk for a moment, thinking about the bloodline of my family, extending from two royal powerhouses. My father was a lord, my mother a lady. I’d dug into our history enough to know that the titles would have been higher ranking had Adarlan not conquered Terrasen, if Terrasen weren’t a state of it’s nation. It’s part of why my parents had been able to rise so quickly to power in the technology and security world. Old money could carry you a long way. It would have carried my parents had they not been so ambitious, smart, and passionate. They could have done nothing for their entire lives and me and my children and their children would still be set.

I dropped my head against the back of the chair, an exasperated sigh slipping passed my lips. Fenrys knew a lot, but he didn’t know everything. It was starting to feel like the only people with real answers were all dead. Call it whatever, but I just had a feeling that there was something more. That my father knew something and I just hadn’t managed to find it yet.

My thoughts were interrupted by Fenrys nudging my foot with his own. I allowed my blue eyes to meet his onyx ones, and he cocked a brow in question. “I’m thinking too much,” I muttered with a slight shrug of my shoulders. A wicked grin began to spread across his lips, and it was so contagious that the corners of my own mouth twitched up, too. “What?”

“Need a distraction?” Catching on to what he was implying, I bit my lip. Fen slid from the desk and knelt before me, resting his forearms against the arm rests of my chair. His body was a solid weight nestled between my legs, and the slight bit of contact had me sinking slightly lower into my chair as though that would solve all the wanting just by bringing our bodies close enough together. It didn’t, unsurprisingly, so I let my fingers trace along his jaw. His face – that inhumanly beautiful face – was so close to mine that our breath mingled between us. Wordlessly, I leaned the rest of the way forward and captured his lips with mine. And Gods, did it feel good to be kissed with such hunger.

His fingers hooked the waistband of my leggings, and I lifted my hips slightly so he could tug them off. Those full lips departed mine, kissing down my jaw and throat, pausing to suck on my skin at the curve of my neck and shoulder. I couldn’t stop the moan that slipped past my lips, and he nearly growled in response. When his fingers brushed over my sex through my panties, my hips jolted toward his touch, and I sucked in a breath that sounded closer to a hiss than anything else. Taking the hint, he pushed them to the side and teased me with his fingers, brushing so close to the apex of my thighs where I wanted him so desperately to touch. More, I wanted to scream, but didn’t have to. He took the hint as I ran my hands down his arms and lifted my leg to rest over his shoulder. Before I could even realize what was happening, his head was between my legs, kissing and licking and sucking in ways that had my body set on fire. His thumbs caressed my thighs in lazy circles as he feasted on me, tongue swirling around that spot at a pace that had my eyes closing. His fingertips teased my entrance, and I gripped his his hair in one fist, pulling his head closer into me. I was desperate in hoping he would give me what I wanted, and he didn’t disappoint.

“Fen,” I moaned, two of his fingers slipping into me easily. I tugged on his head again, this time pulling his mouth back up to mine with one hand, my other pushing between our bodies to unbutton his jeans. I slipped my hand down the front, cupping what I could of his length in my hand, causing him to hiss and pump his fingers faster in me. “More,” I finally croaked, dropping my legs from his shoulders and reaching to tug his pants down. He made a sound of approval and stood, pulling his shirt off in a swift movement that had me leaning forward to graze my teeth and tongue down his perfectly chiseled body. Feeling how hard he was, and seeing as in this position with my mouth perfectly level with what I believe is my favorite part of this man, I moved to take him to my mouth, only to have his hand capture my jaw and tug up slightly, motioning for me to stand. He kissed me again before pushing my back against the wall. My ears registered a crinkling sound as he tossed his wallet onto his heap of clothes, and I took the condom from his fingers and rolled it on, lifting my leg to hitch it around his waist.

Broad hands gripped my thighs, lifting me so my legs settled around his waist. I locked my heels behind his back and let out a loud moan at his length pushing at my entrance. The sound that came out of me when he thrust all the way in was a mixture of a loud moan and a sharp inhale. I’d never felt quite so full, and when he began moving inside me, my body threatened to come undone completely. “Fuck, Aelin,” he damn near growled as I tightened around him, his teeth biting at my neck and shoulder. The sensation was nearly too much for me to handle, and soon my legs were shaking around his waist as my body fractured through my climax. I moved against him, my nails digging into his back and scratching over his shoulders roughly. He turned and deposited me on the desk, his hand shoving my shirt and bra up around my chest, and splayed his fingers across my stomach. Fenrys let out a low groan as he leaned down and closed his mouth around my pert nipple.

The way we moved against each other was near animalistic, merely a need of two bodies. It wasn’t like sex I’d had with Sam, with unspoken promises and whispers of affection. No, this was pure need, pure want. Two people being physically attracted to the other and nothing more. It would never be a relationship beyond our friendship. Just pleasure.   
I could tell when he was nearing completion because he moans and breathing became shorter, his thrusts harder and wilder.

“Come for me,” I urged, biting my lip and tugging on my breast with one hand, my other reaching between our bodies to brush my fingers against his very, very lower abdomen. He buried his face in my neck, biting down as he spilled into the condom, moaning my name into my hair. Fenrys’ ministrations finally slowed, and he pulled out. It shocked me how empty I suddenly felt, and I had half a mind to pull him back onto me, back into me. But instead, I sat up, straightening my shirt and tousling my hair with my fingers.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling my leggings back on and running my fingers over my body one more time to make sure I was decent. He barked out a laugh, and I grabbed my bag from the desk behind him, winking as I hauled it over my shoulder. I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and made for the stairs. “You can close up here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, hauling his own pants back up. I could hear the rustling of him finishing getting dressed as I disappeared up the stairs.

-

My fork twisted around the noodles in the takeout box in my hand, and I stabbed at a piece of chicken from another box in front of me before cramming it into my mouth. My stomach had been all but berating me for the last two hours while I spent time in an Internet café trying to find out any information about my father that I didn’t already know. Namely, I was looking for any sort of information or proof of any side businesses he may have had. My search inquiries were basic, I searched my parents’ names with Fenrys’, with Dr. Rowan Whitethorn’s, with Lorcan Salvaterre. Nothing. So then I tried to search for my parents names associated with the King of Adarlan, and nothing useful pulled. The only thing that dredged up was several times when we had been to the palace for different balls and celebrations throughout my life, but I already knew about those. There were a few photos of my parents, and myself, with the King and Queen, and one of myself and Crown Prince Dorian several years back, engaging in conversation. Of what, I couldn’t recall. A blurry figure further back in the photo I knew to be Sam, but none of that gave me any answers.

Now, I slumped back onto Aedion’s couch, throwing my feet up into Lysandra’s lap just as I forced another large bite of noodles into my mouth.

“And Aedion never mentioned any of it to you?” Lysandra asked, turning her eyes from the tv to me. My shoulders shrugged.

“Nope. I don’t think he knows about it. I think I’m going to try to talk to Dr. Whitethorn about it. Fenrys is helping me look into it as much as he can, but there’s just a handful of missing pieces. I think I’m going to have to go into dad’s office at the manor and see if it pulls anything else up.”

“Have you been back there at all?”

“Not since before they died, no. But I suppose it’s time for me to go home.” I chewed on my lip in thought. My lease was ending soon, and I wasn’t scared of the manor anymore like I had been. There was something about going there so soon after they had died. Something about seeing my parents chambers, being able to smell my mother’s perfume in the library, or my father’s aftershave in the study. I was so scared of their presence still being there, of whatever condition Sam and I had left the kitchen before we had all left for dinner that night. We’d been baking. Of course it would have been cleaned up by the time we got home from dinner, and it very well would have been cleaned up by now, but I’d just been so scared of finding pieces of them there that made me incomplete that I’d never managed to go back.

“Well, you know Aedion and I will go with you. Spend the weekend there with you as well, if you want. We’ve been doing that anyway. AG Manor always just seems so much more peaceful, and it’s easier to get Aedion to turn his phone off without the hustle and bustle going on outside. I swear, sometimes living in a downtown apartment just feeds his energy.” Her eyes rolled and the corners of my lips twitched.

“Everything fuels Aedion,” I agreed, sucking another noodle through my lips. Lysandra laughed.

-

“You’re sure you had a fever?” Dr. Whitethorn said, feeling the sides of my throat to check for swollen lymph nodes. I shrugged noncommittally. If I didn’t outright lie, it wasn’t a lie. Though I suppose it already was a lie, seeing as I said I’d had a fever in the first place. He sighed, resting his hands on either side of my legs. “Aelin, if you don’t tell me what’s really going on, I can’t help you. I’m not going to misdiagnose a healthy young woman and send you off with an antibiotic just for you to build resistance. What’s wrong.”

I tilted my head slightly, my blue eyes boring into his pine green ones. Dr. Whitethorn was handsome. More handsome than I let myself think about most of the time, and with the tattoos that curled out of the collar of his shirt and kissed along his jaw, grazed his temple, he was downright hot. He was also frustrated right now, with me, and I could read it all over his face, which only made me think he was even hotter. I could almost hear him telling me to stop wasting his time, he had other patients. Despite the frustration on his face, I caught his eyes flicking down to my lips briefly. At least, I thought I did. There was no way my doctor had it for me.

“I need to talk to you about my father,” I said finally, pressing my lips into a thin line. He pushed off the table and dropped down onto his stool. “I know you worked with him.”

“You scheduled an emergency appointment with me to talk to me about Rhoe? You have my phone number, Aelin. You can call me and we can meet up somewhere that I’m not trying to save lives,” he said drily.

“You’re my doctor, how was I supposed to know you’d be interested in having coffee with me to talk about something besides what stupid shit I do to myself?” He sketched a brow, lips tugging up at the corners.

“You make it sound like you’re trying to get me to take you on a date, Aelin,” he sounded amused. “I’m more than happy to talk with you about the work I did for your father.”

“No to the date, then?” His eyes rolled and he stood, opening the door behind him.

“I’ll see you later,” he promised, shaking his head at me in what I could only assume was disapproval before he left me sitting there alone. It sure was good that I didn’t really have any ailments, otherwise Whitethorn might be the worst doctor ever.

-

My fingers swirled lazily around the glass edge of the mug I was sipping hot chocolate from. Marshmallows covered the top layer of the delicious liquid, melting together into one sweet, creamy glaze that didn’t fail to leave a white mustache behind with every sip. Soft music played through the café speakers, and from different points around me I could hear soft murmurs between friends and lovers, and the click of keyboards as some worked on their laptops. Every time the whoosh of the door sounded from being opened, my eyes raised, expecting Rowan to walk through at any moment. It took what felt like an eternity, but finally it was his tall figure that stepped inside, glanced around the room, and upon spotting me, walked to our booth and slid in across from me. He ruffled his fingers through his long, silver hair before he leaned back against his seat, flashing me a grin.

“Dr. Whitethorn,” I greeted, locking blue eyes with his pine green ones. He cocked a brow, lips forming a hard line.

“I really wish you would just call me Rowan,” he said flatly, face showing no emotion whatsoever. I bit my bottom lip and shrugged one shoulder, unable to keep my nerves at bay. Nerves of what, I couldn’t quite be sure. Something about the setting and the man sitting before me had me slightly unnerved. It had something to do with how harsh and severe his face was, all sharp bones, and a crease between his brow that had him looking constantly in deep thought. He was more than handsome when he broke the serious demeanor; his features lighting up, a glint in his eye. Currently, with his green eyes locked on my face, a flush crept up my neck. I looked down at my drink.

“Well, _Rowan_.” I exaggerated his name, and the corners of his eyes crinkled like he was trying to hold back a smile. “I want to know what you know about the work my father was doing. Fenrys doesn’t know much but there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense to me, and I want to know what they were looking into so intently.” He let out a breath, eyes glancing up to mine as he pressed his lips in a firm, thin line.

“I’ve had a theory,” he began, knuckles turning white from how tightly bound his fists were, “that your accident wasn’t an accident. I wouldn’t have thought otherwise, I would have let it go, but Conall was killed in the same way. Same type of semi-truck, the driver fled the scene. It was all too similar.” I felt the blood rush to my head. Suddenly, I felt very dizzy, and I laid my hands on the table to stabilize myself. He thought my family was murdered? Rowan was quiet, eyes focused solely on me. When I looked up at him, he didn’t speak, waiting for me to say something.

“You think they were murdered for something they were working on.”

“I think they were murdered because they uncovered something they weren’t supposed to and the wrong people found out,” he said. “For your sake, I’ve held off on looking into it. I didn’t want to be wrong, I didn’t want to bring you any of this if I couldn’t back it up somehow.”

“Why tell me now?”

“Because you’re asking. Because it means you found the bunker and if you didn’t think something was weird about any of it, then you wouldn’t be asking me. If there wasn’t some piece of you that didn’t feel like something was wrong here, you would have been fine – eventually – with whatever Fenrys had been able to tell you. You wouldn’t be looking for more answers.” I nodded, because he was right. He was also right about the coincidence of Conall’s death happening days after my parents.

I poked the marshmallow foam on my hot chocolate and licked it off my finger, quietly processing what Rowan had told me he suspected. Something hadn’t seemed right to me. For my parents, for Sam, to keep something like this from me, there had to be a bigger reason. There had to be something more to it. The only reason I could think that my parents and my would-have-been fiancé wouldn’t tell me about something so major in their lives would be if they did it solely to protect me. That only left the question was as to why whoever killed them didn’t finish off the job with me when I survived the accident. Perhaps they didn’t know I lived. Perhaps they’d learned I was in critical condition and assumed I hadn’t made it. I never went back to school, and I’d ended up basically slumming it. I hadn’t taken up my title as Lady of Orynth. It would have been easy to overlook that I had lived.

“Will you help me look into this? Dig into it more? I don’t want to take it to Fen yet. I don’t want to tell him his twin brother was murdered if he wasn’t. I want to know what they all found out, some sort of proof-“ I stopped talking because Rowan was already nodding, agreeing to help me no matter the cost. “I want to search his private study at the manor. See if there’s anything there or on his computer. I doubt there is, but we can always start at ground zero in the bunker if we can’t find anything.”

“I have some files of my own that I’ll bring over, let you sift through. Do you want to meet up on Friday? I take a half day, so that would give us Friday and the weekend to work through everything,” he suggested, eyes locking with mine again. For some reason, my breathing hitched in my throat.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, quietly, softly. I paused, tapping my hands to the table once before I stood and nodded a thanks to him. “Aelin?”

“Yes?” I turned, my golden blonde hair whipping around my shoulders as I looked back at him.

“Be careful,” his voice was low, one of his hands half outstretched as if he was going to reach for my hand but thought better of it. I bit my bottom lip but nodded, tucking my hands into my pockets and stepping out into the street. With the sun setting, it was beautiful. Had I not just heard my parents may have been murdered, it would have been the most beautiful sunset I’d ever seen. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO MY LOVES! It feels as though it’s been ages since I updated this story, but it hasn’t been that long. I hope you’re enjoying the storyline and the adventures thus far! I’ve decided I want my chapters to be a bit longer, so there may be slightly longer wait time between chapters but the payout will be probably better. I like being able to include so much more information for you guys to get further into the story, that way it won’t be like ten billion chapters long. I can’t believe how much there is still left to uncover for this story, but I’m pleased with where it’s going. I hope you do as well.
> 
> Don’t forget to check out my other fics I have listed here, as well as follow me on tumblr @highqueenofelfhame, I take requests there, I haven’t posted them here yet. You can find my writing by searching for “my writing” on my blog. If you have any requests and DON’T have a tumblr, comment a prompt and I’ll gift it to you when I’m done!
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> Thank you so much for reading my stories and supporting my writing. You have no idea just how much it means to me. You’re all so wonderful. 
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> Xo


	6. The House That Built Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought if I could touch this place or feel it,  
> This brokenness inside me might start healing.  
> Out here it’s like I’m someone else,   
> I thought that maybe I could find myself.  
> If i could just come in, I swear I’ll leave  
> Won’t take nothing but a memory from the house that built me.”  
> The House That Built Me - Miranda Lamber

A train screeched behind me, the vibration of the locomotive rattling my bones with every step I took. The whirring of metal on metal as it thundered past, whipping up it’s own wind that had the ends of my hair slapping my cheeks with a stinging ferocity. The proximity of the train to the gym was something that annoyed me on a regular basis, because every time they rolled through, it broke my concentration and never failed to startle me when they sounded their horns. Leaves danced at my feet as I trudged toward the doors, and I made a point to stomp on them just for the satisfying crunch that met my ears.

Upon entering the gym, the smell of sweat and must hit my nose, causing it to wrinkle. Fists punched bodies, punched bags. Metal on metal as they put their weights back on the rack. In my time coming here, I’d never seen another female come to work out. Then again, society encouraged women solely to bear children, not defend themselves against the very men we were supposed to reproduce with when they were too pushy. I supposed it wasn’t that odd at all.

Fenrys was nowhere to be seen, so I tossed my bag into one of the cubbies against the back wall and moved to the hand-weights to begin my normal routine. I zoned out, counting the repetitions and sets over and over. By the time I’d finished my typical arm day routine, sweat was beginning to drip down my temples. I moved to the treadmill, ready to start my cardio routine, and after doing a few quick leg stretches I settled in to an even running pace.

Sweat glistened all over my body, trickling down my spine. I’d been running for a good half hour when Fenrys walked into the gym, tying his golden curls into a bun as he laughed about something. Once he’d moved out of the door enough, I realized it was Rowan that followed him inside, silver hair knotted at the top of his head, eyes light with amusement. Fen winked at me when they walked by, and Rowan offered me a smile that I’d never seen before. He must have been in an incredible mood.

The two massive ex-military men disappeared into Fen’s office for awhile, and when they came out both of them were wrapping their hands with tape. It looked like, to my own amusement, they were getting ready to fight each other. Luckily for myself, I’d picked my favorite treadmill which happened to be directly in front of the fighting mats. I watched with an emotion I can only relate to as glee as they bumped knuckles, then settled into fighting stances. Rowan rocked on the balls of his bare feet, shaking out his arms and hands. He rolled his neck a few times, the clicking sound of cracking bones as it popped. In a swift movement, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it at the edge of the mats. His tanned skin was more muscular than I could have possibly imagined. He looked to be made of nothing but raw muscle, every dip and curve of his body and abdomen a damn-near work of art. The tattoo that I had only seen curling up his face, peaking out from shirt sleeves, danced all the way down his arm and part of his chest – covering the skin in a way that only accentuated how perfect his physical form was. It was beautiful, the tattoo; the line work and markings seemed to almost be that of another language. Every spiral and curl was elegant, yet strangely wicked, telling some sort of story that I couldn’t quite place. His legs were equally as impressive as the rest of him, something I didn’t take note of on men very frequently, but his body was so beautiful I couldn’t help but admire every inch. His eyes caught mine and heat immediately began creeping up my neck, to my cheeks. My feet stumbled, and I nearly tripped on the treadmill.

He hadn’t even looked back at Fenrys as he dodged a hit from Fen, knocking his arm away in an easy blow. It was then that he focused on the task at hand, and then they really started going for it. Watching them fight was like watching two people dancing. They moved in an odd synchrony with each other, the way two dancers might dance a pas de deux, the way an orchestra would rise and fall with it’s conductor.

The longer they fought, the more their bodies glistened with sweat. I kept running, not breaking my pace until the treadmill began slowing its self down. My five miles was up.

I stepped off after the cool off period, shaking my arms to loosen my body as I did. I stepped to the edge of the fighting mat, watching the two men punch, block, and kick each other, still moving so smoothly and quickly that I managed to miss some hits. Something I’d managed to miss was Rowan’s assault on Fenrys that had him stumbling back several paces, only to stumble onto the floor. Quick as a flash of lightening, Rowan was on top of Fen, who tried to get his legs around Rowan’s torso and failed miserably. The doctor made a low, hoarse laughing sound as his legs wrapped around Fen’s neck, tightening until Fenrys cursed and tapped out.

Rowan was on his feet, grinning like a fiend as he helped his friend to his feet. Before I could stop myself, I clapped a few times, walking onto the mat. There were reasons this man was a legend among men. Up close I could see scars, just slightly lighter than the rest of his skin, that proved how that legend was created. One in particular that was nestled in the left line of his Adonis Belt looked like a gunshot wound, and something twisted in my gut. Several others could have been from knives, shrapnel, cats, who knew. I lifted my eyes to his to find that, once again, he was looking at me, too. To avoid the awkwardness of how intently I’d been studying his body, I poked the rounded scar with rough edges that I suspected to be a gunshot wound. “What’s that from?” I asked.

“I got shot in the wastes,” he said, eyes not leaving mine.

“Someone wanted to play hero. I had to drag his ass to cover so he didn’t die.” Fenrys was grinning at the memory, and Rowan merely shook his head, sliding his eyes over to Fen.

“Let us not forget the time that you played hero and without my ass, you’d be dead, cub.” Rowan jabbed Fenrys in this ribs and I snorted.

“Are you ready to train?” I asked, turning to face Fen.

“Actually, I was thinking that you could train with Rowan today.” My brows, and Rowan’s shot up. Rowan blurted “What?”  
“Oh come on, like you wouldn’t sit here and critique everything I did.” At that, Rowan shrugged, as if to say ‘fair point.’ My eyes studied Fen’s face for a moment before I lifted a shoulder, turning back to face Rowan.

“All right then, Rowan. Shall we?”

“Not until you get your arm in a sling,” he drawled, fingertips grazing the elbow of my hand he’d reconstructed. My eyes narrowed slightly, he would kick my ass if he knew I’d been lifting weights before he got here. Was I overusing my hand? Yes. Did it hurt? Absolutely. Was I going to stop? Definitely not. To save myself an argument I would lose, I walked over to my gym bag and pulled my sling out, slipping my arm into it and the strap over my head as I approached Rowan again. He reached out, wrapping the bottom strap around my waist, tightening it until it didn’t budge from my torso. His fingers grazed the bare skin – I typically worked out in a sports bra and shorts. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched my ribs before, but it was the first time I’d ever felt my skin erupt where his fingertips kissed my skin. I swallowed, then turned to look at Fenrys, my eyes narrowing on him once again. I quirked a brow, but he merely shrugged, dropping down onto one of the benches.

I turned back to the doctor, who was brushing silver hair that had fallen from his bun behind his ears. I shook my free hand, bouncing back and forth on my toes, waiting for him to swing, but he shook his head, walking to stand behind me.

“Your legs are in good position, but hold your body from here,” He murmured, breath stirring the loose pieces of hair by my ear. A slight shock to me, he pressed his hand flat against my stomach, silently telling me to draw my strength from my core. I nodded, and he moved from behind me to in front of me, inclining his head in approval at how I now held my body.

“I told her that,” Fenrys grumbled from behind us, causing me to shoot him a glare. He had not told me that, and the amusement on Rowan’s face said that he knew he hadn’t, either.

The lesson went on, different than anything I’d done with Fenrys. Fenrys mostly critiqued what skill I already had, but Rowan would pause, take the time to correct my form, or tell me how to make certain movements more effective. He encouraged me to kick at him full force after he’d perfected where my foot made contact on the bag, and he’d stumbled slightly, then grinned at me.

“Good, good. Keep throwing your whole body into it like that.”

By the time he called it quits, the sun was setting, and my body ached. Dr. Whitethorn was a more thorough teacher than Fenrys, and I couldn’t understand why he’d sent me to Fen when he could have trained me himself. None-the-less, I was thankful for the lesson, and I even managed to convince him to train me more often. Was it solely to learn fighting? No. Was it partially to stare at his half naked body? Absolutely.

-

My fingers laced with Aedion’s as soon as I was out of the car. Lysandra appeared on my other side, looping her arm with mine, her other hand laying on top of mine. Aedion pressed a kiss to my temple, murmuring that he’d be right here beside me. We stood in front of the manor, the place I’d grown up, my home. I’d still failed to go inside, but I wanted to go home before I brought Rowan here to go through dad’s study, just in case I had some sort of meltdown over the whole affair.

The house itself was massive. We’d pulled up to the front, circling the fountain before parking in front of the stairs that led to the main entry. To the my right, the green house jutted out slightly, the large dome of the glass ceiling sparkling in the sun. The stone banister curved around the greenhouse, another set of stairs leading down back into a path that led around the house. The window panes of the greenhouse were covered in ivy. The remaining three quarters of the manor had a gothic-church feel, with spires reaching for the clouds. Banisters lined the flat roof, a place Aedion and I had spent many nights sleeping under the night sky. When we got older, Sam had joined us. It’d always been something special, something soothing when things were particularly rough. Part of me wished desperately I had allowed myself to grieve my parents and Sam with Aedion under the dark blanket of night, but it was too late for that now.

Exhaling slowly, I released Aedion’s hand to begin my ascent up the stairs, careful to avoid the icy patches that winter continued to grace the manor with. Aedion and Lysandra were right behind me, ever the solid wall of support that I might need to cling to. It was a weird sensation, walking up to the house. It was familiar and it was home, yet somehow foreign and cold.

I pulled the house key out of my pocket and unlocked the front door, stepping inside the grand entryway. Two staircases curled up to the second flood landing, and in the center of the foyer was a table with an abundant floral arrangement. From my left, down a hallway and around the corner, sugary scents of baking enveloped me in their warmth, and I was immediately drawn down the hall, glancing up at the photos of my ancestors that were perched on the walls. The ceiling to floor curtains that covered the windows were a deep emerald green. There was something aesthetically pleasing about the marble flooring with the décor.

When I reached the door to the kitchen, a voice was humming along to a song, and I knew immediately who was behind the door. I pushed into the room and received a double take from both the women, before the younger of the two rushed to me and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

“Oh, Aelin!” Elide exclaimed, squeezing me tighter. I melted into her embrace as her mother, Marion, approached and kissed my head, her hand running down my back. The gesture was so comforting, so maternal, that my eyes instantly teared up as I turned to hug Marion as tightly as I had Elide.

Marion was our head of house hold. When my parents were away, she’d often been in charge of me. When I was younger, I played with Elide constantly, and once Elide was a little older she became my lady’s maid. However, they were both so much more than servants. They were family. Marion was essentially a second mother to me growing up; not in the sense that my mother was inadequate – my mom was the best mother that the world had ever seen – but because she’d always been a steady presence in my life. She was my mom’s best friend, her confidant, and Elide had quickly become the same to me. Elide was more like a sister, someone that knew all my secrets, all my shenanigans, and never told a single soul when I’d snuck out when I was younger to spend nights at the lake with Sam.

“Welcome home, my love,” Marion whispered against my hair, hands running smoothly over my shoulder blades. She pulled back slightly, wiping the tears from my face. Elide was beaming. “Aedion mentioned you’d be coming today. We’re making your favorite.” Marion gestured toward the kitchen, and a deep breath told me exactly what it was.

“Chocolate hazelnut cake!” I exclaimed, throwing an arm around Elide’s shoulder and kissing her head. “Thank you so much.”

“Go finish looking around,” Marion insisted. “I’ll call for you when your cake is done.” With a wink, she nudged me toward the door we’d come in, Elide grinning as she went back to mixing a giant bowl of chocolate frosting. Aedion and Lysandra murmured in hushed tones behind me as we walked through the manor, my eyes raking over every detail that seemed to be just as it had been the the night of the accident.

Not a single thing was changed, even when I got to my room. My room had been kept tidy, but nothing was even so much as out of place. My school books were still stacked on my desk near the window, my bed was made – plush pillows covering half the purple duvet. The book shelves that covered half the room, which were color coded, was just as pristine as I’d left them. My fingers traced the letters down the spines of some of the books and I sighed. Some of these books were first editions, worth tons of money, and I’d neglected them by leaving them here to be unread for a handful of years.

I paused near the window, running my fingers along the white curtains and frowned. My old color scheme of purple, white, and silver didn’t seem to fit me anymore. As soon as I was back downstairs, I’d be requesting that all of it be switched out for something that better suited my tastes now. My gaze shifted from the curtains, to the snow covered grounds, to my dark washed oak desk. A photo of Sam and I was tucked into a small drawer so that it was right at eye level when I sat. In the photo, my lips were pressed to his cheek, and he was smiling in a big, goofy way that had his entire face scrunched up. Our hair was sprinkled with snow, our cheeks and noses rosy. I laid the picture back down on the desk, glancing over at Aedion that stood in the doorway.

“You okay?” Instead of speaking, I merely nodded, moving to my closet. Dress after dress lined the left side, so many of them unworn. All of my casual clothes had been packed up by Lysandra and were at my current apartment, so the right side of the closet was mostly bare. I stepped back out into the main room, not even bothering to glance at the bathroom before exiting into the hall. Turning the direction of my parents rooms caused Aedion to be at my side with a firm and stable hand on my back. When I pushed open the door, my hands started to shake.

Everything was perfect. Perfect as if they would be coming home any minute. Mom would take a hot bath and slip into casual clothes, and Dad would disappear into his study until dinner time. After dinner, we would watch a movie while I studied for exams, or go downtown to mom and I’s favorite antique shops. When I stepped into the closet, I swear I could smell their lingering scents. Mom’s sweet but sophisticated perfume, a perfume I would always associate with her. Dad’s aftershave, my favorite smell when I was a kid. My hands shook as I picked up the bottle of her perfume and smelled the nozzle. When the sobs began, I couldn’t stop them. The bottle slipped from my hands, shattering all over the floor. Smalls pieces of glass grazed the skin of my ankles in the explosion, causing little cuts to draw blood. The perfume scent was overwhelming until Aedion scooped me into his arms and carried me from the closet, tears pouring down my face.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry momma. I’m so sorry,” I couldn’t stop my confessions from falling out of me. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t finish school. I’m sorry I’ve been wasting my life. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Aedion, I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, my entire body shaking. I pressed my face into his neck and he sat down on the settee at the foot of the bed, holding me in his lap. I felt Lysandra’s thin fingers brushing over my hair. The grief I’d not let myself completely feel for the last two years overwhelmed me, and Aedion held me until the sobs calmed and I could breathe again.

-

“Aelin, you know I hate this creepy ass building,” Aedion complained as I led them to the mausoleum. I rolled my eyes, opening the gate that led into the marble building.

“Oh shut up. I need to show you something.”

“What could she possibly need to show me in a crypt,” he grumbled to Lys, who elbowed him roughly in the ribs. Once we were inside, I unlocked the secret door, watching Aedion’s face as it crumpled with complete confusion at the grinding and churning that the back wall was making. When that section of the wall pushed forward, his jaw dropped. He stopped complaining about the crypt after that, following me down the rickety old stairs and into what myself, Rowan, and Fenrys exclusively referred to as the Bunker.

Aedion had as many questions as I did, and I answered them the best I could. I could tell that this was a genuine surprise to him; he’d had no idea what dad was up to down here. Aedion had only ever been trained in the family businesses, not with whatever this was. Lysandra was equally as amazed seeing the Bunker in person, and I understood why. It was a lot to take in. I watched as Aedion followed the lines on the conspiracy wall, making mental notes of everything he saw.

“When did you find this?” He asked, fingers tracing over a name on the wall.

“A few weeks ago. I found it that day I found that note in your desk. Fenrys has been helping me look into things. Dr. Whitethorn…Rowan, too. He…Aedion, he thinks they were murdered. And I think he’s right,” I said, twisting the hem of my shirt in my hands anxiously. Aedion let out a deep sigh, a breath he’d been holding it seemed, and closed his eyes. He was quiet for a moment, then sat down, pulling Lysandra onto his lap and said, “Tell me everything you know.”

-

Friday rolled around quicker than expected. I was down in the Bunker, packing up every bit of information with the help of Aedion and Lysandra. We’d spent the last two days organizing all the information by person, city, country, until it was a foolproof system that was completely in order. We took multiple photos of the conspiracy board on each of our phones in case anything happened to one phone, we had backups. We also took photos with a DSLR camera to ensure the highest quality, that way when we put the board back together in a different location, we could get it exactly as it was before.

My hair was braided down my back, the stray strands around my face sticking to the slight sweat I’d managed to work up while I heaved boxes around. I had just finished packing up everyone’s fake passports when I heard my name being called from outside. My eyes shifted to Aedion and Lysandra, who raised her eyebrows at me and opened her mouth to say something snarky, but I cut her a glare.

“He’s my doctor. And he’s helping.”

“Helping you orgasm?” Aedion snorted at his girlfriend and I threw an old passport at her like a frisbee. It hit her in the stomach and she hissed at me.

“No, that’s what Fenrys is for,” I countered, sticking my tongue out at her as Rowan’s feet landed on the ground. He was dressed in black jeans, black boots, and a white t-shirt with his black leather jacket thrown over the top.

“Fenrys is for what?”  
“Nothing,” I said, at the same time Lysandra said, “Aelin’s orgasms.” I gave her an incredulous look, putting a lid on the last box I was working on and moved toward the stairs.

“I’m going to kill you,” I shot over my shoulder as I gripped his elbow gently and turned him, guiding him back toward the stairs. His face looked indifferent, but there was something about the way his mouth tensed at the corners.

“Why are you packing everything up?” He asked me as our feet crunched in the snow. My eyes shifted from the snow-capped mountains in the distance to his face. “Do you not want my help anymore?”

“No. I mean yes, I want your help. I was going to talk to you about it in the study.”

“Talk to me about what?” His fingers grazed my elbow as he came to a stop, and I turned to him, biting my bottom lip.

“I’m going to Rifthold. It has to be the royal family. You know it just as well as I do. I think being close will help, will make things make sense. Sam used to go on weekend trips to Rifthold all the time. I thought it was maybe to see old friends, to visit his mother’s grave. But I think it was for this.” Our breath was visible, drifting away in little clouds. Rowan’s nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold, somehow making him look younger.

“If you’re going to Rifthold I-“

“I know you can’t help me from here. I know. So I think you should-“

“Would you let me talk without interrupting me?” He quipped, sketching a brow. I pressed my lips together in a thin line, frustrated that he didn’t let me finish. I needed him to go with me. “If you’re going to Rifthold, I’m coming with you. I can’t let you go there alone. I respected your father way too much to let you throw yourself into a potentially dangerous situation.” He said it so bluntly that my brows shot up in surprise, and I immediately grinned, letting out a laugh as I threw my arms around his neck, which took me practically jumping on him. Rowan seemed shocked, it took a moment before his hands braced against my back. When we separated, I nodded to the house, hooking my arm through his.

“Let’s go sift through the study.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m working on an update for Untouchable that’ll be up in a few days, maybe even later tonight. It just went somewhere super dark super quickly so that’s what’s taking so long. I’m also rereading TCP before I post any new installments for Heavy In Your Arms but all of that IS coming. I just wanted to post something and I have so much of this story written that it ended up being this guy. I hope you enjoy where the story is going, leave me comments and stuff. You can also send me fic requests to my tumblr or the comments here and I’ll work on those in my free time! Tumblr: @highqueenofelfhame


	7. Panic Attack.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My words disappear on a dry tongue  
> And I’m trying to let you know it  
> But I am drowning by the moment  
> I guess I’ve been having trouble sleeping  
> But now I’m having trouble breathing  
> And I hate that I can be seen like this.  
> Panic Attack by Liza Anne.

Fenrys was lounging on my bed in the manor while I dug through my formal gowns in my closet. It had been a week since Rowan agreed to go to Rifthold with me. Getting to Rifthold, infiltrating the castle was a top priority. Doing that would require going to parties, and Rowan had the connections to make it happen. Technically I did, too, but I wouldn’t be going to Rifthold as Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. It was too risky; if my family really was murdered, and the royal family was behind it, if they found me in Rifthold and found out I was snooping around, my fate could be the same as theirs. I hadn’t seen any of the family since I was around 12, and I looked quite different as a mature young woman. I planned on dying my hair when I got there, too, so I would be all the more unrecognizable.

“This one?” I asked, stepping back into my rooms, holding a black velvet dress to my body. Fen looked up and I turned it on the hanger to show him the back. It was my favorite dress in my collection, that I had owned since I was 16, but had always felt too young, too immature to wear. Fenrys grinned widely, nodding his head.

“Whitethorn would lose his mind if he saw you in that,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly as I turned back to my closet, almost so low I didn’t hear it.

“What?” Whipping my head back around, I almost dropped the dress. Surely I didn’t hear that correctly. Fenrys’ eyes were wide for a split second before he schooled his face in neutrality, furrowing his brow.

“What?”

“Why would –“

“I meant that I would lose my mind if I saw you in that,” he corrected, grinning sheepishly and averting his eyes to the ground. I rolled my eyes, hanging the dress back up with the rest of the dresses I was taking. Soon, Marion and Elide would pack them up properly and prepare them for transport. As it was the last of the dresses, I made my way over to the bed and plopped down next to Fen, staring up at the ornate golden swirls that danced across my ceiling. I lifted my hips and tugged my nightgown down so it reached mid-thigh to avoid flashing Fenrys. I’d been lounging around when he showed up just before lunch, and hadn’t bothered to change out of the red satin garment.

“Are you nervous?” I felt his weight shift, and I turned my head to look at him. Fenrys was rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m tired, is what I am.” It was the truth. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired emotionally. Sleep didn’t come as easy as it used to, with nightmares of the accident, nightmares of seeing my parents brutally murdered before my eyes. Dreams of Sam pulling me onto a dance floor, my wedding dress swirling around my feet, only for blood to start oozing from his chest. Yes, I was very tired. Perhaps the most tired I’d ever been in my life.

“I could, you know, wake you up. Give you a good luck send off…” he was grinning like a godsdamned fiend, and I laughed loudly. I was interested in anything but feelings. Sex, I wanted. Needed, even. I paused for a moment, tapping my finger against my lips before rolling on top of him, sitting straddled across his waist. His eyebrows shot up, but he ran his fingers up my thighs anyway.

“Nothing emotional, remember? Plus, I’m leaving tomorrow,” I narrowed my eyes at him. “But...I could use this. It takes the edge off.” My lips were pressed together in a thin line as I watched his hands.

“So do I,” he chuckled, fingers inching higher. Fenrys rolled us over so he was on top of me, the movement so quick that I shrieked and laughter bubbled out of me. He quickly pressed kisses to my mouth and then down my neck, my chest. His tan, broad hands ran up my body and he groaned, pushing my nightgown up until it was gathered above my breasts.

“I’ll have to play later,” he gritted out, kissing down my abdomen. My eyes watched as he settled between my legs, which I situated over his broad shoulders. Biting his lip, he pulled my panties to the side and began pressing a soft kiss just above where I really wanted his mouth. Fenrys’ curly hair tickled against the insides of my thighs, the slight 5 o’clock shadow on his face scratching against them in a way that would have normally tickled; but with the tension pooling between my legs, it teased my senses and made a breathy moan escape my lips. A finger grazed along my slit and I spread my legs wider, wanting more. But Fenrys took his time, teasing me carefully and slowly for several minutes before he separated my lips with his pointer fingers. I was getting frustrated, we didn’t have time - and then he pursed his lips together, blowing cool air onto my center and I inhaled sharply, goose bumps erupting across every inch of my skin. With a jolt, I was lifting my hips up closer to his mouth, silently begging him to please touch, please taste.

“Fenrys please -“ he leaned in and licked from my opening all the way up to my little bundle of nerves. Fen moaned in a near guttural way at my taste, causing a shiver to dance through my body. I closed my eyes and wove a hand into his hair, his curls tangling in my fingers. The movement caused his hair to tickle the inside of my thigh and causing me to squirm, all too sensitive as he gave me another long lick. Our eyes locked, and with a groan he planted his mouth around my clit and began sucking delicately. With every pulse he added more suction, added more pressure with his tongue, more more more until I -

And then he stopped just as my moaning was getting loud enough to mean I was going to climax. I let out a frustrating cry, tugging on his hair. Looking up at me, he chuckled, the vibrations from his laughter hitting me in a very specific way that had me pushing my hips up and tugging his hair down so his mouth was tighter around me. Fenrys ate me out like I was the most immaculate piece of fruit he had ever eaten. Like I was a piece of watermelon on a summer day and he couldn’t get enough. I could see my juices reflecting in the light on his chin, his lips when he would pull back and blow that cool air into my core and It drove me insane. He ate me like he’d been starving and I was his first and last meal. His teeth grazed against my bud and I nearly screamed, pulling on his hair with both hands and digging my heels into his back. A finger pushed into my center as he went back to sucking and swirling his tongue around my clit, making love to me with his mouth. After a moment, he rested his cheek against my thigh and watched me writhe beneath him as he Inserted two, then three fingers. He kissed my knot twice before he began flicking his tongue over it quickly. So fast that I pulled harder on his hair - a silent request to not stop.

“You are so fucking wet,” he moaned; causing me to whimper as I got close, so close. And then he was biting down on the most sensitive part of my thigh, hard, as my release finally claimed me. The only thought, the only sound I could think to make was his name as I fell over the edge. Fenrys was moaning too, moaning and licking and sucking and biting between my legs, my thighs, my lower stomach. Soon, my body was shaking as his bites and licks turned into soft kisses. The quick thrusts of his three fingers slowed into two, and then one, before he pulled them out.

“Look at me,” he instructed, kissing up my body until he held his fingers to my lips. I wrapped my hands around his wrist and carefully took his fingers in my mouth, my eyes not breaking contact with his while I sucked my juices from his fingers. Fenrys groaned at the sight, pulling his hand from my mouth and kissing me roughly as his hand wandered back between my legs. Thumbs lazily stroked the inside of my thighs, my own hands roving over his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his back. His tongue was exploring my mouth thoroughly, worshipping just as it had below my waist. My legs still felt shaky, but he was pushing his briefs down his thighs and grinding his cock against my center.

In a quick movement, he had us flipped so that I was on top. I pushed his member down so it was flat against his stomach and slowly and carefully ground my soaking center against him. Fenrys’ eyes were hooded as he watched, savoring the little sounds that came out of my throat at the feeling it gave my already sensitive body.

“I want to watch you sink down on me first and then I’m going to fuck you until we’re out of time,” he said lowly, his hands ran up my sides, pulling the nightgown back up with them so he could see everything. I bit my lower lip, the heat already gathering In my core again. One hand kept my panties pulled to the side as the other guided the tip of him to my opening, and I let out a tiny little squeak and started to sink down onto him. It quickly became one long, drawn out moan as I braced myself by gripping his forearm. Fenrys took It upon himself to lace our fingers, and I squeezed his hand tightly while i sank lower and lower.

“You’re so fucking tight. Fuck, Aelin. You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, and I dropped down the remaining few inches until he all the way inside me. I rose up slightly, so he could watch his cock pull slightly out, but something in him snapped, and he flipped us over. He was slow the first few minutes, slowly thrusting in and out so I could adjust to him, but I was losing my mind at how it felt to have him split me open. The first time we’d had sex, it was quick, rushed, and hurried. Now we had all afternoon, really, to just make each other feel good. The only deadline we had was finishing before Marion and Elide came up to pack my dresses. The heat between my legs was now an all consuming fire as I dug my fingers into his shoulders, nails scraping against his skin.  
“Harder,” I begged, squeezing his sides with my thighs. He obliged, picking up the pace and pounding Into me the way I kept begging him to. “More, Fen. Fuck me harder.” And so he did, until we both tipped over the edge, me screaming his name, him pulling out and spilling onto my lower stomach. Sweat covered my face and body, a mixture of my own and droplets that had come off of him. Fenrys lay next to me, running his hands through his tangled curls.

“Well,” he said flatly. “Did that wake you up any?” I looked over at him and we both erupted with laughter.

“I guess,” I shrugged after a moment, then rolled out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind me.

-

My life was changing at a rapid pace. I had been so stagnant for two years, letting myself waste away. Now, I felt I had a purpose, I had a reason to wake up, a reason to keep living the life that I was so graced with a second chance.

My heart fluttered in my chest viciously as Rowan and Aedion closed up the door of the trailer. Aedion and Lysandra were supposed to be moving me down to Rifthold, but some things had come up at the company that Aedion flat out couldn’t get out of. It turned out okay, because Rowan was off on weekends and offered to drive me, and he’d managed to get Fenrys and their friend Lorcan to help me move. Lorcan was another of my fathers personal spies, though I was still unclear on exactly what role he and Rowan played in my fathers arsenal, though I could assume that they were the brute force of the bunch just by looking at them.

“I’ll be down next week, so if you need anything else from home let me know,” Aedion was saying. He looked like a nervous wreck, and I understood the feeling. We hadn’t been separated since we were kids. After his mom died, he lived with us, and he was much more like a brother to me than a cousin. Even when he was mad at me the last two years, we still saw each other at least once a week. We’d always lived in Orynth together, never too far apart. Now I was moving four hours away, and I knew it was driving him mad that he wouldn’t be there to protect me if I needed him. But the company needed him here. I needed him here. Despite their secrets, my parents loved their work, and I couldn’t bring myself to allow the selling of Galathynius Industries and Ashryver Technologies. I needed Aedion to run the company, keep everything as normal, not draw any attention to anything I might be doing in Rifthold. He hated it, but he would do it. Aedion had always, and would always, do anything I needed.  
Aedion reached out and tugged me to him, hugging me so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t complain. I hugged him back just as tightly, squeezing him as hard as I could.

“I mean it, Aelin. Anything you need, you call me. I’ll be there as soon as I can be,” he murmured into my hair, and I nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you here.” His words were barely a whisper, but I heard him perfectly clear.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, little A,” his lips brushed the top of my head and he released me from his grasp. I moved to Lysandra and squeezed her tightly, trying not to cry. The last few years had been rocky between us, because of me and my issues, but before that, she had been my very best friend.

“Phone call away. That’s all I am,” Lys said. “And we’ll come down as often as we can, hell I’ll come down even when he can’t.” She pressed a kiss to my cheek and I stepped back, wiping my eyes as I looked at my two best friends, the last of my family.

“I love you,” I said to them both, my voice cracking a bit. Aedion reached out and ruffled my hair, and Rowan’s hand brushed against my back and he nodded to the front of the moving van, where he would drive and I’d be passenger. Fenrys and Lorcan were already in , and when I glanced over at them Lorcan looked just about ready to kill the other man in the car. I grinned, climbing up into the van. Aedion and Lysandra waved until the gates swung closed behind the van and I couldn’t see them anymore.

-

Rowan sighed, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. One arm was draped over the steering wheel as he drove, the other resting on the center console between us. I had my feet up on the dash, trying to make the most of the relatively uncomfortable moving van. I was also trying to make the most out of our time together in this little space, mostly by pestering him with questions.

“It won’t kill you to let me get to know you,” I said, poking him in the shoulder, which earned me another flat look. My brows rose, as if asking him to prove me wrong. He arched one, as if to tell me he just might kill over if he got too personal with me. “Buzzard.”

“Fine. But if I say pass, you have to drop it and move on.” The corners of his lips tugged up slightly. I squealed, drawing my eyes down to my phone, scrolling through the list of questions.

“Oh, this is a good one. What’s something your brain tells you to do that you and you have to will yourself not to?”  
“Pass.” I threw my hands up in the air, dropping my phone in my lap in the process.

“It was the first one!”

“Move on, Aelin.” I huffed, shooting daggers his direction as I looked for another one.

“What’s your most useless talent?” I inquired, propping my chin in my hand and looking up at him under my lashes. He barely glanced at me, flipping on the turn signal and switching lanes.

“I can juggle just about anything, within reason.”

“Will you show me sometime? I asked, biting my lip as I smiled. Rowan shrugged.

“If you’re nice.” I huffed, but he chuckled, and I turned my attention back to my phone, looking for a better question.

“Do you think everything happens for a reason?”

“Cliché,” he pointed out, but something in his face shifted. He adjusted himself in the seat, fidgeting slightly. Why had that question made him nervous? “I…gods, Aelin, I hope so. If everything doesn’t happen for a reason then what’s the point? If everything doesn’t happen for a reason then what are we doing? If people we lost died for nothing, if nothing matters, what’s the point? I hope it does,” he swallowed, eyes shifting over to me for half a second before flicking back to the road. Instead of pestering him more, I reached over and laid my hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze before turning the radio up and watching the trees blur passed us as we drove.

-

My apartment in Rifthold was just as I imagined it being, namely because of the photos on the real estate site. It looked to be a warehouse, and it was, I bought the entire upper and lower floors. The lower floor was just flat out a warehouse, but once upstairs, there was a large living area, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. The bathroom had a bath tub that I would fit into and soak in perfectly, just below a large bay window that overlooked part of the city. Was the apartment in the best part of the city? No. But it was exactly what I needed and low key enough that I didn’t think that anyone would ever suspect me of any sort of wrong doing.

The little man that met us handed me the keys, and an envelope full of papers for me to sign and get back to him that would transfer the warehouse into my name. I handed him a check with a large sum of money scrawled onto it, and we started unloading everything into the apartment.

It took several hours, and once all the boxes were inside and the furniture was in the right place, I started unpacking my basic needs; toiletries, kitchen supplies, my bedding. The works. The boys were all complaining about being starving, so we cleaned up, changed into less gross clothing, and set out into the town. I wore black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a beanie over my long, golden blonde hair that was braided over one shoulder. I’d even taken to putting a little makeup on so that Rifthold’s first impression of me was that I was a stealthy little shit, but I looked damn good doing it.

We got a few odd looks as we walked down the street – me, about five feet eight inches tall, flocked by Rowan who was six foot four inches, with long silver hair and that wicked tattoo that curved up his face; Fenrys who was just an inch or so shorter than Rowan with that deep skin and beautiful face; and Lorcan, the most menacing looking of the three, with his sharp but beautiful demeanor. All three men, on top of being complete giants, were so muscular that I’m sure some people were nervous about what kind of trouble they wanted to get into. All of us, funny enough, wore all black, like a weird gang of misfits that had come to wreck the pub we walked into.

Instead of wrecking the place, we found a table in the back corner and ordered a round of beer and various food items. It was loud in the pub, lots of jeering and cheering going on from the opposite corner, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that there was a fight going on. Rowan, who seemed to catch the spark in my eye, looked at me with a stern expression and gritted out, “No.”

“Oh come on,” I groaned. “Lorcan would let me do it.” At that, Lorcan gave me a look so dry it rivaled the desert wastes. Lorcan didn’t care for me much. I wasn’t sure why, I just got the heavy vibe that while he may have liked my father, he didn’t extend that sentiment to me. More than once, I’d heard him mutter about me being bitchy. He wasn’t completely wrong on that front.

I was halfway through my burger when I saw him. The way he moved, his height, his wardrobe, all struck a familiar chord so deep in my bones that I stumbled to my feet. His hair was long enough that it covered the tops of his ears. He needed a haircut. The jacket he wore – black, leather – was nearly identical to the one he had tucked around my shoulders on more than one occasion, and when he turned his head and I saw his profile, my heart stuttered in my chest. Before I knew it was pushing through the crowd, my elbows digging into bodies as I hurried between them.

Somewhere behind me, Rowan was calling after me, but I kept moving, following the brown haired, brown eyed boy. I followed him out of the pub and down the street, trying and failing to get his name out. Every time I tried to shout for him to stop, the words wouldn’t come out. I could barely see through the tears that began pouring down my face. I couldn’t breathe, my chest was so tight, and the thundering of my heart in my chest was painful. I tugged my jacket off, throwing it on the ground behind me, hoping it would give me some sort of relief, give my lungs more space to expand. My feet moved faster, his name falling off my lips in a whisper. “Sam.”

I was finally close enough to reach out, my fingers grazing his arm. A shock jolted through my body. Sam. It was Sam. Sam was here, he was here, Sam was alive.

“Sam!” Poured out of my mouth, followed by a gasping sob as I grasped his forearm and tugged him to a stop, the man turning to look down at me. My heart fell, sank, completely stopped beating in my chest. I felt a hollowness spreading through my body, I felt the agony of not being able to breath enough as my chest constricted, making me a prisoner in my own body. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, the blood rushing out of my face. It wasn’t Sam. It was a handsome young man, roughly Sam’s age, height, same hair and eye color. Similar enough bone structure that from far away…

I stumbled back a step, and he reached out to steady me but I jerked away, tripping over myself and hurtling toward the ground. Strong arms caught me just before I hit the concrete, helping me back to my feet. I tried to jerk away, but couldn’t. Panic began to set in harder as I turned to face the person holding me so tightly, only for a familiar scent to wash over me and I collapsed against his chest, breathing in the pine and snow scent that only belonged to Rowan. Hot tears kept streaming down my face, the icy winter wind biting at my skin. My body shook all over, from the cold or the shock I wasn’t sure. My teeth were chattering, my breath was coming out it rapid, aggressive sobs that physically hurt.

“I thought…he…I thought…Sam,” I sobbed, hitting my fists against Rowan’s chest as another sob sent tremors throughout my body. I hit at him again, pressing my forehead into his chest as my legs finally gave out. Before I hit the ground, however, his arms scooped me up for the second time, cradling me to his chest. I barely registered him murmuring something to the man I’d mistake for Sam, and then we were moving.

My arms snaked around his neck as I sobbed against him, leaving black trails down his skin in the wake of tears. Rowan didn’t say anything, just carried me and carried me while I sobbed until he was setting me down on my bed atop the emerald green duvet. When he went to pull away, I panicked, tightening my grip around his neck and shaking my head. “Don’t go, please don’t go don’tleavemeIcan’t-“

“Hey,” he said, fingers wrapping around my wrists to pull them away from his neck. “I’m going right over there to my bag, to get something to help you calm down, and I’ll come right back,” he said softly, thumbs swirling in soothing circles over my wrist. Against my better judgement, I stopped struggling against him and nodded, watching his every move as he stepped outside of my bedroom and began rummaging through a bag. I tugged my jacket off and threw it on the floor, followed by my jeans – leaving my shirt on – and slipped under the blankets, my eyes never leaving his body. His head poked back in my room, and he said, “I’m going to get you a glass of water. I’ll be right back.” He waited for me to nod before he disappeared from view.

Not being able to see him sent me into another state of panic, my blood rushing violently in my ears as my breathing hitched repeatedly in my throat. I reached under my shirt, struggling to get my bra offoffoff, I couldn’t breathe with it constricting my ribs – and once I got it out of my sleeves I threw it onto the floor, too, the tremors shaking my body in a whole new way. My sobs broke out louder as I pictured Sam – the Sam I had thought I’d seen. When I’d grabbed his arm, I’d expected him to turn, a smile to explode over his face. To be swept into his arms, and carried back to my new apartment – it would have been our apartment then – and our lives would start. The last two years wouldn’t have been for nothing. All of this would have led me back to him, to my Sam. But it wasn’t Sam. It was a stranger that only looked vaguely like him.

I didn’t realize I was screaming until Rowan burst into the room, rushing over to me with a glass of water in his hand.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Aelin, look at me,” he urged, crawling back onto my bed next to me. His fingers grazed under my chin as he tucked me under his other arm, and he tilted my head back to look at him. “Fireheart,” he murmured, lips at my ear. I froze at that, looking up at him. Did he know what that name meant to me? “I’ve got medicine that will help you calm down, if you’d like to take it. It’s just anxiety medicine, it’ll only help you calm and relax.” Hating the way my body felt, so out of control, so caged in and trapped in my own body, I nodded, causing him to reach behind him and grab a bottle of pills. He tucked one into my hand, then grabbed the glass he had retrieved. I put the pill in my mouth and chased it with a drink of the cool liquid. When he put the water back on the table, he adjusted himself so he was under the blankets, too, and I laid my head on his shoulder. “Just breathe, yeah?”

“Okay,” I said, my voice distant and foreign. I didn’t sound quite like me. I didn’t recognize the hoarse, ragged voice that came out of me, but still he held me, smoothing my hair as I continued to cry, until exhaustion and medication pulled me under.

Sometime later, I woke up in a mostly dark room, save for the dim fire in the fireplace, I immediately reached over for a warm body next to mine. There wasn’t one.

“Rowan?” I called out, but my voice was still hoarse and too quiet. I crawled out of bed, bare feet coming in contact with the cold floor that sent a shiver up my spine. With the light from the fire, I found a pair of sleep shorts and pulled them on, making my way to the door. I could hear voices murmuring outside of it, and I opened the door to find Rowan standing next to the couch that Fen and Lorcan were seated on. “Rowan?” His eyes snapped up to me at the squeak of the door hinge, and immediately he was moving to stand in front of me.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said softly, taking in my expression. I merely nodded, swallowed and wiped at fresh tears that were starting to fall with the back of my hand.

“Can you please stay in here with me.” It sounded less like a question, and more like a plain sentence, with little inflection or light to my voice. He nodded, taking my hand and leading me back into the room, closing the door behind him, and walking me back over to the bed. When he crawled in with me, I settled against his body, my tears leaving stains in his t-shirt. The next time I awoke, his breathing was deep with sleep, not having moved a single inch. I felt safe for the first time in years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO updates tonight, I almost just updated untouchable which is my Feysand AU so check out chapter four of that if you haven’t already. Let me know what you think down in the comments, and before you get worried about Fenrys x Aelin being a permanent ship in this story - it isn’t. This will be the last time they hook up, and I’m only revealing that out of fear that people will stop reading because of how I’ve depicted their relationship in this story. It all does come around full circle though.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @highsqueenofelfhame for early updates!


	8. Pray For Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I fight the world, I fight you, I fight myself.  
> I fight god, Just tell me how many burdens left.  
> I fight pain and hurricanes, today I wept.  
> I’m tryna fight back tears, flood on my doorsteps.

**ROWAN**

I walked into Fen’s gym, my bag slung over my shoulder and bouncing consistently with each step. Immediately I spied Lorcan in the corner, beating the shit out of a punching bag. He didn’t give me as much as a nod, the rhythm staying constant as he danced on his toes. Fen was in his office, scribbling on some paper when I disappeared into the locker room, changing into athletic shorts and throwing the rest of my clothes into the locker I always used.

When I walked back out, I began my stretches, sighing in relief at how good it always felt to stretch after a day of seeing patients. I was more tense than usual, my shoulders tight as I rolled them. After spending so much time with Aelin, not knowing if she was okay when she didn’t respond to my texts was driving me up the wall. In fact, I’d texted her an hour ago and not yet heard back, and –

Dammit, Rowan. It doesn’t matter what she’s doing, or who she’s with. If she needed something, she would call. Period. I clenched my jaw, bringing my fingers to my mouth and letting out a loud whistle. Fen looked up from his work and I inclined my head, silently asking him to join me in the ring.

I climbed in, bouncing on my toes and trying to loosen my body so that when we started throwing punches, I wouldn’t be so uptight. Fenrys slipped into the ring and pulled his shirt off, throwing it over and onto the floor. Lorcan even walked over, leaning against the ropes and probably waiting for a turn at a human target.

“You talked to Aelin today?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice was strained. I could have sworn Lorcan’s eyes rolled, but something lit up in Fen’s, making my jaw clench harder.

“About an hour ago, she was going out with the Prince and his guard again.” It shouldn’t have bothered me, Gods above it shouldn’t matter, but the knot in my stomach twisted. She wasn’t texting me back because she was out with the prince. I forced my head to nod and cracked my neck, then my knuckles as Fen held out his fist. Bumping mine to his, we both moved into defensive positions, hands up guarding my face, waiting for his first swing. He hesitated, so I made the first, which he blocked immediately. “She didn’t tell you?”

He swung, and I blocked, going in immediately after to knock him upside the head. Lorcan snorted to my right – it was a move that Fen was never good at blocking, or at seeing it coming despite how often we all knocked him senseless. How the pup didn’t have brain damage by now, we had no clue.

“Nope,” I forced out, going offensive and aiming for his ribs. He slammed his elbow down on my arm, then swung for my ribs, which I blocked easily.

“I figured this would happen.”

“What?”

“Aelin slutting it up with the prince?” Lorcan offered. I paused, looking him dead in his depthless eyes.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I warned, features tense as something…primal clawed up the back of my throat. She didn’t need my protection, not really, but Gods be damned if I was going to let someone like Lorcan Salvaterre talk shit about her when she wasn’t around.

“He gets sensitive about peoples she’s fucked, Lorc,” Fen teased, nailing me on my left side. I didn’t hesitate before pushing the same punch back to him, then swung my leg up to kick him in the other side. He choked on his breath, narrowing his eyes at me. Beside us, Lorcan snorted.

“If that were true, he’d have your ass by now,” Lorcan retorted, and I froze, my eyes turning straight to Fenrys. A small smirk was plastered on his lips, and the realization that the day in the bunker, Lysandra had said Fenrys was responsible for Aelin’s orgasms. How had I not put that together?

“What did you just say?” My voice was lethally quiet, rage pulsing through my body.

“Come on, Whitethorn. It isn’t like we were quiet about it. She certainly wasn’t,” he said with a wink. I stayed where I was, body frozen and icy, but something glittered in Fen’s eyes. “You should have heard how I made her-“

White hot rage coursed through me, and before Fen could ever register what was happening, I had him on the floor in a simple maneuver. Sitting on his chest, I punched him square in the jaw, then directly down onto his mouth before I shoved myself off, and hopped out of the ring.

“You can have him,” I snarled to Lorcan, but he barely heard it over Fen’s laughter.

“I told you that you wanted her, you stupid bastard,” he chuckled, teeth red with blood. He leaned over and spit onto the floor, lip already swollen where my fist had made contact.

“Shut up,” I said over my shoulder, unable to say anything else. Because he was right, I did want her. I wanted her so bad these days I could barely focus on anything else. But that was useless, futile. She didn’t see me as anything else but her doctor, her friend. She didn’t think about the way I held her all night after she thought she’d seen Sam. But I thought about it day and night, unable to fall asleep sometimes because I couldn’t get her scent out of my head. Couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth of her small body tucked against mine, the way she sighed in her sleep or asked me to come back to bed when she woke up alone. I definitely couldn’t stop thinking about making her smile, being the reason she laughed. But she was off with a prince, and I… I was well and truly fucked. 


	9. Swoon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re my cannibal lover  
> I feel it when you’re underneath the skin  
> creepin’ in again  
> well I know this chemical feeling  
> is making me forget about the drugs  
> you poison with your love  
> and when I think I’m out of the dark  
> You’re pulling me away from the light  
> take me where you want me tonight  
> and let me swoon over you

“I’ll be fine,” I said for the umpteenth time, arms folded across my chest as I looked up at Rowan. I was perched on the edge of my bed, the silver-haired man leaning against the fireplace, watching me intently. Fenrys and Lorcan were out in the living room, watching some game on tv that required them to scream in defeat every time it didn’t go quite their way. “You’ll be out here in less than two weeks, and I’ll just lay low until then.”

“What happened yesterday –“

“Won’t happen again,” I finished, raising my brows slightly. Rowan sighed, running a hand down his face. “Plus you gave me the anxiety meds so if anything starts to get weird I’ll take it and call you or Aedion or Lysandra. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look all too reassured, but nodded tersely anyway, his eyes shifting to gaze out the window. A moment later, a knock at the door had Rowan reaching over to swing it open, revealing Fenrys with Lorcan standing behind him.

“You said you wanted to head out by four,” Fen said, tapping the face of his watch. Rowan nodded, his gaze falling back on me. I arched a brow as he approached; his hand moved to smooth down my hair and rest on my shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon enough,” was all he said as he appraised me a final time, then moved passed the two men into the living room, Lorcan behind him. Fen approached me next, pulling me into a bone crushing hug.

“When are you coming back?” I asked him, tilting my head back to look at him.

“I’ll be back for a few days with Whitethorn. Otherwise, if you need me call me. I’ll come whenever you need me to until I get things settled with the gym,” he said, nodding his head almost like he was agreeing with himself. Fen dropped a kiss on the top of my head and disappeared out the door. Lorcan merely looked at me out of the side of his eye before slipping out the front door.

I stepped into the living room, watching as they collected their bags and opened the front door. They were quiet as they moved to leave, Rowan pausing again to look at me. I smiled at him, approaching him once more to grip his hand as I said, “I’ll be okay, Ro.” His fingers squeezed mine as he nodded again, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he pressed them to my forehead, then disappeared out the door.

-  
It didn’t take long for the boredom to settle in, so I crawled onto the bathroom counter, wrapping a towel around my shoulders and settling with my feet in the sink. I picked up the box of hair dye next to the faucet, briefly reading the instructions before ripping the box open and dropping the contents into my lap, tossing the cardboard scraps over my shoulder. Within a handful of minutes, I had my hair separated and saturated with dark auburn dye. My beautiful hair, once a stunning golden blonde, completely virgin to any and all hair color, now being stained semi-permanently. I’d never had dark hair before, so looking at myself in the mirror I hardly recognized myself. My eyes seemed electric against the contrast, the aqua and gold hues seeming to shine brightly. A small smirk appeared on my lips as I was unable to contain just how striking this hair might make me.

Half an hour later, I stepped into the shower, washing the dye from my hair until the water ran completely clear and no longer muddy. I took my time washing my body, then drying off. I took even more time rubbing jasmine scented oil into my skin, then running the remnants through the ends of my hair until I smelled absolutely wonderful.

I spent just as much time drying and curling my new hair, then applying makeup to accentuate my features in all the right ways. By the time I was finished, I was more than pleased with my new dark hair, and the sultry makeup I’d smoked around my eyes.

Despite knowing I should unpack, I slipped into a casual dress and, with a nod to my reflection, fixed my now auburn curls over my shoulder - then I grabbed my bag and slipped out the front door of my new apartment.

My main goal was to get to the bar we had visited the night before. I wanted to find the man I’d probably embarrassed the fire out of and apologize properly, with a clear head. Semi-clear. I also wanted to drink enough whiskey to drown out the silence of Rowan and the others leaving and not returning for a few weeks.

It was well past ten when I slipped through the doors of the tavern, making my way straight to the bar. The wood was cool under my hands as I lay them flat, leaning forward on my forearms to summon the barkeep. The man was older, probably in his mid-fifties and covered in scars. He seemed like my kind of company.

“You look too pretty to be in here,” he said, his accent rolling in a way that was charming, but his gruff voice and haggard appearance was anything but. His eyes raked over the long sleeves of my velvet dress, straight down to the low v between my breasts. I sketched a brow.

“You’d be surprise. Can I get a Moscow mule, and also a pickle back shot with Jameson, please?” I grinned, offering him a wide smile of my straight and pretty teeth, another one of my winning features. He eyed me for a moment before nodding, turning his back to me to collect the liquor he’d need for both drinks and I, too, turned, leaning against the bar with my elbows propped up behind me. My eyes drifted over the lay of the land, different groups of different people crowding the place. It was clearly like the places I’d so loved to frequent in Orynth, full of criminals and low lives that had nothing better to do than drink their sorrows between whatever jobs or fights they got into. I paused at a table in the back, my eyes landing on an all too beautiful boy that was looking at me, too. And if I wasn’t mistaken, it was the Crown Prince himself, dressed in common clothing with a toboggan covering his dark hair. Had I never met him, I wouldn’t have recognized him. I was surprised more people hadn’t taken notice of him, especially amongst this crowd. My brow arched, I gave him a once over and turned back to take the shot of whiskey as it was set down before me, quickly followed by the pickle juice chaser. I offered the barkeep a salute with two fingers before I picked up the Mule he’d made me and sauntered over to the table where Dorian Havilliard sat, dropping into the chair and crossing my fishnet-clad legs. His eyes – a stunning blue – raked over them before he settled back on my face. I licked my lips, then took a sip of my drink, leaning back in my chair.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he commented, lifting his beer to his lips to take a drink. I shrugged.

“You know everyone in Rifthold?”

“No, but this crowd is mostly the same day in and out. You’re different.”

“Is that why you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

“I was more worried about your wellbeing in a place like this.” He shot back, a lazy grin plastered on his face.

“I can take care of myself,” I countered, glancing back around the room. “You wouldn’t have seen me before. I’m new here.”

“Where from? Your accent doesn’t give you away,” he said. At that, I grinned. It wouldn’t. I’d grown up around such a mix of accents that mine sounded purely Erilean, with no indication if I was from the north, south, or somewhere in between until I was angry, and then some of my vowels would turn toward sounding like those that were from Terrasen.

“Bellhaven.”

“And your name?”

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” I countered, taking another long sip. I pricked the lime off the side of the glass and squeezed the extra juice into the liquid, mixing it all together with my straw as I dropped the slice in. He pressed his lips in a thin line for a moment, appraising me. My instincts told me he was appraising what kind of threat I was, or would be.

“Dor-Chaol,” he cut himself off mid sentence, and I wrinkled my brow as a dark shadow fell behind me. Ignoring it, I swirled my straw around my glass one more time.

“Dorchaol? That’s your name?”

“I’m Dorian, he is Chaol,” he nodded his head to the shadow beside me and I finally glanced up, doing a double take. The man from last night stood next to me, eyes shooting daggers into my skull. He must be some sort of guard for the Prince, and I relaxed my posture to hopefully allow him to relax his.

“You,” I said as he slid into the chair beside Dorian. His brow furrowed a moment, then realization washed across his features as he remembered me.

“Your hair-“

“Was different. I was hoping to run into you again. I’m sorry for last night, I’m sure that was incredibly absurd to be part of.”

“I was hoping to run into you, too. To make sure you were okay.”

“From the side, and from behind, you looked like my dead fiancé. And for a moment,” my breath caught in my throat and I immediately took another sip, the alcohol burning my throat. “For a moment I lost my sense.” Dorian glanced between us, but he didn’t look confused. If I had to guess, I would say that Chaol here told Dorian about the strange encounter. Or, Dorian had been hiding somewhere and witnessed it himself. They were both quiet for a moment, and I downed the rest of my drink and pushed my chair back to excuse myself. “On that note,” I nodded to them both. “Gentlemen.”

“Wait, I…I didn’t get your name?” Dorian said, leaning forward on his forearms. I quirked my lips into a small smile, bowing my head discreetly.

“Sardothien. Celaena Sardothien.”

-

“What did you do?” Rowan drawled as soon as I answered his FaceTime call. I knew he meant my hair immediately, but I took my time responding, rubbing my face to try to wake up. My eyes were still half-closed and sleepy, one eye squinted shut as I looked at the camera. I could only imagine how rough I looked, my now reddish-brown hair disheveled with sleep, leftover mascara that I’d been unable to scrub off surrounding my eyes.

“I’ve met them as me before, I can go by a different name but it’ll do no use if I look like the me that they met years ago. I’m being precautious.” My voice was thick with sleep and heavy with sighs.

“You may as well have dyed it blue.”

“You don’t think I’m pretty with red hair?” I inquired, propping my head in my hand and arching a brow. He shot me an incredulous look before he glanced back down to whatever paperwork was in front of him.

“What happened last night?” He asked, ignoring my question. I recounted the evening, giving him all details I could remember about running into the Prince and his guard the night before.

“You have to have a combination of the best and worst luck of anyone I’ve ever met,” he said, shaking his head. He wore his white doctor’s coat, his stethoscope draped around his neck. I shrugged, fluffing my pillow and laying my head back down. He’d woken me when he called, but I hadn’t been able to resist answering when I saw his name and photo on my screen. We’d been spending so much time together before the move that I found I rather missed his companionship. Truthfully, I missed it so much that when it took him too long to text or call me back, the hollow ache in my chest only grew. A hollow ache that needed to rightfully fuck off, as there was no way in hell Dr. Rowan Whitethorn felt any semblance of emotion toward me. In fact, he hadn’t been able to stand me for the longest time. Only in the last two years had our relationship become more friendly.

“I’m hoping he’ll dig into me a little more, and that curiosity will kill the cat and he’ll come looking for me.”

“I’m almost positive he or his guard will show up at your doorstep at some point,” he agreed. I could hear him tapping his fingers on the counter anxiously, his face turning into hard lines as he frowned.

“What’s wrong?” His features immediately softened and he shook his head.

“Not a thing. I’ve got to get going, but call me if anything interesting happens, or if you need me.”

“What if I just miss you and want to talk to you?” The words were out before I could stop myself, heat immediately flushing up my neck. Thank the Gods for shitty phone cameras and my drawn curtains, because there was no way he could see the blush that now swept my cheeks. On his end, he quirked a brow, trying to hide the way the corners of his lips twitched.

“Call me then, too, I guess,” he said, almost too slowly. I let out a small laugh, rubbing my eyes with one hand.

“Deal.”

“Bye, princess,” he said, ending the call before I could say anything else. Sighing, I dropped my phone onto my bed and reached for my satin eye-mask, tugging it over my eyes, groaning inwardly as I rolled over and tried to fall back asleep.

-

It had been three days since running into the prince and his guard at the tavern. Three days I had spent laying low and mostly sticking to unpacking and decorating my apartment. The only time I had left was to pick up fresh fruits and vegetables from the farmers market on the other side of town. I’d also snagged any other necessities while I’d been out, leaving me no reason to prowl the town the last few days.

Truthfully, I hadn’t really wanted to leave my new home. I could feel the anxiety clawing up the back of my throat, threatening to shred my lungs if I did more than I was ready for. I’d been fine the last time I had run into that guard, Chaol, that looked so similar to Sam from certain angles, but what if it happened again? What if the fear and anxiety took over and I thought I saw him somewhere else? With Rowan not due back for a few days, who would help me soothe the ache in my chest when the grief completely wrecked my body?

I chewed on my bottom lip, watching the setting sun through the large bay window to my right, losing myself in thought almost completely, until I heard the crash of a garbage barrel outside followed by a string of curses, entirely too close for comfort, at the foot of the stairs that led to my front door. I stayed still, listening to the footsteps thump up the stairs, and moments later, fingers rapping at my door.

“Who is it?” I called, unmoving from my position on my couch. Since I hadn’t left the apartment, I hadn’t changed out of my silk robe. I wore absolutely nothing underneath, save for some lacy unmentionables and thick, woolen socks.

“Captain Chaol Westfall of the Royal Guard.” My heart skipped a beat, thudding wildly in my chest. Of course the Prince’s guard was the Captain. I pushed off from my couch and made my way over to the door, unlocked all the locks (there were four, the little lock on the door handle itself, two deadbolts, and a chain lock. Rowan was responsible for the extra deadbolt and the chain.) When I opened the door, the Captain gave me a once over. I arched a brow, taking in his Captain’s uniform, his shiny black boots, the white gloves on his hands.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?”

“His Royal Highness, Prince Dorian, requests your company tonight for a party,” he said, mouth tight. Both my brows raised, I took in his tense body language.

“You don’t seem very happy about that.” I stepped to the side, gesturing for him to enter, and he did. Brown eyes swept the room, taking in everything that he could, and I supposed he would be used to sweeping for threats.  
“Yes, well. Dorian doesn’t care what I think most days. Get dressed.”

“For starters, I’m not a dog to be summoned. If I wish to accompany the Prince I will but you can’t just walk into my apartment and tell me to get ready for a party. What if I had been busy?” Chaol’s eyes flickered over to my bedroom door, which was closed, as if silently questioning if I were, in fact, busy.

“You don’t look busy.”

“Neither do you,” I countered, scowling at him. However, I had been waiting for the prince to look for me, and here was the opportunity. I rolled my eyes slightly, wrapping the tie at my waist around my finger. “I’ll be right back.”

“Is there anyone that will come looking for you if you’re not home when he gets back?” I glanced over my shoulder, sketching a brow. He was referring to Rowan, because Rowan had been who lifted me from the ground and carried me home after my panic attack. I shook my head.

“He’s not here,” was all I said as I disappeared into the room. “Is this a formal party?”

“If you have something nice enough,” and at his snark, I slammed the door shut. What did he take me for? A common house rat? Annoyed, I pulled a floor length, blood-red gown from my closet and slipped it on. It was velvet and long sleeved, but off the shoulder. Simple, but still interesting, highlighting my décolletage and shoulders beautifully. I stopped in front of my mirror, taking my hair out of it’s braid and fluffing it out with my fingers, letting it tumble around my shoulders messily. I took black kohl and mascara to my eyes, flushed bronzer over my cheeks, and swiped on nude lipstick. I’d looked better, sure, but I’d also looked much, much, worse. Not bad for only twenty minutes.

When I exited the room, tucking teardrop earrings into my ears and slipping rings onto my fingers, Chaol looked up from where he leaned against the fire place. My heart tugged painfully, because before he’d glanced up, I thought I saw Sam again. My throat constricted and I froze, hands resting on my stomach. It took me several moments to collect myself, several moments of Chaol saying my name and me trying to remember to breathe. Finally, I blinked and swept into the kitchen, digging through my medicine cabinet for the anxiety pills from Rowan.

“Will this dress do?”

“Yes,” he said tersely, watching as I downed the water and the pill. I stepped into a pair of black heels that were by the door, then opened it, waiting for Chaol to exit before I followed, locking the locks and tucking the keys back into my handbag.

-

The ride was uncomfortable and silent, save for the quiet classical music that played through the speakers of the SUV. Someone I couldn’t see through the screen drove, while the Captain sat in the back seat with me, mostly just staring out the window. After roughly ten minutes of silence, he looked to me, eyes taking in the rich quality of my dress, the diamonds that I bore around my throat, at my ears, across my fingers.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“What twenty-four year old can afford to wear at least two-hundred grand in diamonds to dinner?”

“I’m sure it would insult the prince if I didn’t wear two-hundred-and- _fifty_ grand in diamonds to dinner.”

“What do you do?”

“Who says I have to do anything?” He shot me a look and I shrugged. “Perhaps it’s drug money. Or better yet, maybe it’s blood money. Is that what you want to hear?” He opened his mouth to say something else, but the car came to a stop and the driver was opening his door before he could. I stayed in my seat, waiting for the captain to open my door, and he did, offering me a gloved hand as I slipped out of the seat. We were in front of a large manor style house, one that I knew to be owned by the royal family from multiple files that had been in the bunker, and were now stored in a vault in my warehouse.

I could hear music pulsing from the drive as the captain led me upstairs and through the grand front doors. This manor was smaller than my own, less intricate, less homey, but still beautiful the way all manor houses seemed to be in Adarlan. Several people were milling about the room, all of them in their finery. It seems this wasn’t to be a private dinner at all, but something of a party thrown by the prince.

“What was your solution had I not had a gown fit for this party?” I asked, tilting my head to the side ever so slightly.

“Not that it would have been my problem, but Dorian would have had me take you somewhere to get a dress.”

“How considerate of him.”

“We met you in a tavern in the slums, what else were we supposed to think?”

“Haven’t you ever been told not to judge a book by it’s cover? I can assure you, Captain, there’s far more to me than meets the eye.

“So it would seem,” he said, the muscle in his jaw feathering. I wanted to make another smart ass remark, because he clearly didn’t like me, but Prince Dorian came gliding down the stairs, adjusting his bow-tie as he hopped off the bottom step. His fingers took mine and he bowed at the waist, kissing my knuckles. My brows rose slightly, surprised that the Crown Prince was bowing before me, but instead of saying something to further irritate Chaol, I curtsied.

“You look beautiful,” he said, thumb brushing over my fingers.

“I’d look even better if I’d been given more warning, or more time to properly fix my hair and makeup,” I countered, shooting a glance to Chaol, who merely shrugged and departed without so much as another word.

“Forgive him. He’s uptight because he’s convinced everyone will kill me.”

“If I wanted to kill you, Prince, you would already be dead,” I teased, causing him to bark out a surprised laugh. He folded my arm under his, guiding me through the manor, leaning over to whisper the names of various guests that were in the room. At one point, he handed me a glass of champagne and I took to sipping it thoughtfully, nodding as he spoke, aware that I was here because he wanted pretty arm candy. I took another sip of champagne, just as he clapped another man on the back, greeting him cheerfully. I took the time that Dorian was occupied to rake my eyes over everyone in the room, who they were and what they might be doing here.

Parties weren’t unusual for the prince to have, there had been numerous documentations of his parties in the files from the bunker. People were always dressed to the nines, the prince always in a full tuxedo, the captain in his dress uniform. It had been at a similar party like this that I had met him originally when I was younger with Sam at my side.

Some of the faces in the room looked familiar from the photos, but no one looked familiar in terms of people that had received extra surveillance by my father and his rag-tag group of spies. Thinking about them had my stomach twisting, wishing that Rowan were here to keep an extra eye out. Everything about this party said it was for leisure. My instincts told me that whatever the king was up to, perhaps Dorian didn’t know. Perhaps the captain didn’t know, either. Or maybe he did, what with the way he kept eyeing me like I was the biggest threat in the room.

“Celaena?” Dorian’s voice pulled me from my reverie, and I turned toward him to smile, fingering the necklace at my throat. Again, he tucked my hand under his arm and led me to a room with far less people, a room that he gave Chaol a pointed look as if to say ‘Don’t even think about following us in,’ because he stopped outside the door with a scowl. The room in question was a study, covered wall to wall with books and tomes of every shape and size. My literary heart fluttered.

“So what is the Crown Prince of Adarlan doing, bringing a nobody like me to a party as his date?” I asked, fingers grazing the spines of the books. I picked up one in particular, opening the pages to confirm that it was, in fact, a first edition, and most of the rest of these books probably were, too.

“A date?” He mused, the playful gleam in his eyes sparking something in my chest.

“It may have been the most unconventional way to ask me, however, I know when I’m being used as arm candy. Who is it that you’re trying to make jealous? I don’t mind, by the way,” I paused, looking at him over my shoulder. “Truly, I’m flattered.”

“I’m not trying to make her jealous, I’m trying to keep her away. Her name is Kaltain, she’s a member of my mother’s court, and she won’t leave me alone,” he said flatly, eyes darting to the door. Trying to suppress the smile on my lips I glanced out the door, walking over to stand between his legs, as he was sitting up on the desk.

“Which one is she?”

“White dress, black hair. She’s stunning, but not for me in the slightest.”

“And you think I am? You’ve only spoken to me for a total of fifteen minutes, princeling. I could be your worst nightmare.” But I wouldn’t be, because the way that he kept glancing at my lips made me want to kiss him more than I’d like to admit.

“That’s why you might be. You don’t treat me any different. You knew who I was in the bar, but you didn’t even try to make an impression. You talked to me like I was a human being, not…not a prince.” I finally spotted the girl, lurking outside the door, and she was, in fact, stunning. I tilted my head as I looked back at Dorian, letting the girl take in that my hands rested gently on his thighs, let her take in how he swept my hair behind my shoulder to expose my collarbones and shoulder.

“She’s outside the door. Kiss me and maybe she won’t interrupt.”

“As you wish, milady,” and then he angled his lips over mine, his fingers lightly touching my jaw as he pressed his lips fully against mine. So softly, so sweetly. So much different than kissing Fen had been lately. Those kisses were all hunger and need, this was just…sweet.

“I think she’s gone,” I told him, peering around his shoulder.

“I don’t care,” he said under his breath, lips pressing back onto mine with more pressure, as he tugged my body closer to his. Behind him, I registered the sound of the door being closed as his fingers twisted into my hair, his tongue slipping into my mouth. My own hands twisted into the slight curls at the nape of his neck, and it didn’t take long before he was slipping off the desk, dragging me through a door in the back of the study and into the dark room beyond.

-

I wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but somehow Dorian had become quite taken with me. If he wasn’t able to see me in a day, he would call or text, always asking how I was doing as though he truly cared. Chaol was always bitter when he tagged along, giving Dorian and I both stern looks as we crept in and out of black SUVs, snuck around theatres in the VIP boxes to watch the shows, or dressed down to slink around the slum taverns for a drink.

Chaol seemed ever so skeptical of me and my motivations, especially as the end of the second week crept upon us and Dorian wanted me as his guest at another party. He didn’t seem to like how dodgy I was with cameras, because he had somehow noticed that I ducked my head at the right time or turned to cough every time a camera began to flash in my direction.

“I just don’t like pictures,” I insisted, staring out the window while the driver drove us back toward my apartment. “I don’t see why that’s such a crime.”

“It’s not,” he said tensely, and I shot him a sidelong glance. Chaol didn’t like me, not one bit. And maybe he shouldn’t, because his prince was the perfect way for me to garner information. Or maybe he just didn’t like that Dorian was taking a commoner to bed every other night, worried I’d poison him in his sleep.

“Truly, Captain, I’d think you’d be more pleased that I’m clearly not using him for status.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not using him for something else.”

“Sex?” I countered, turning my head to appraise him. He tensed as we stopped at my apartment and I opened the door to slip out before he could make it around to open the door for me. My eyes met his briefly, and judging by his body language, something was very clearly wrong. “Chaol?” I asked, turning my head to take in the two approaching men from the corner of the street. Chaol put his hand on my shoulder, ready to shove me out of the way. I found it interested that his instincts told him to protect me, even though he didn’t like me a bit. But as the men passed under the street lamp a good twenty feet away, and silver hair flickered from under a hood, golden curls from the other.I let out a strangled noise and instantly began running toward the men, throwing myself at Rowan’s body as soon as I was close enough, his strong arms enveloping me and holding me to his body. He gripped me tighter, fingers pressing into my skin as Fenrys gave a pointed cough as if to draw my attention from Rowan, but I wasn’t quite ready to let go. It seemed that Rowan wasn’t either, because his grip didn’t loosen in the slightest. Enveloped in his warmth in that dark alley, I could have sworn though, that he sighed into my hair, breathing in my scent, and that he was just as happy to see me, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted a chapter 7.5 today as well so don’t miss that guy! It’s a little snippet from Rowan’s POV while he’s in Orynth before they come back to Rifthold. Let me know what you think!! Follow me on tumblr www.highqueenofelfhame.tumblr.com


	10. Speak In Tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will move  
> Give you rhythm  
> Speak in tongues  
> Til you listen  
> Listen and sin  
> Speak In Tongues - MachineHeart

After introducing Rowan and Fenrys to Chaol, he departed with nothing more than a curt nod before he slipped into the black car and disappeared around a corner. I led the two massive men up to the apartment above the warehouse, questioning them about their trip down to Rifthold, asking Fen how the gym situation was, asking Rowan about leaving work.

The guys had already been by the apartment earlier that night when I wasn’t home, dropping their bags off. They’d been wandering tavern to pub, pub to bar in search of me because I hadn’t been answering my phone – it had died hours before while I was with Dorian. We got settled, Rowan starting a kettle for tea while I changed out of the dress I’d been wearing. I had just tugged on a sports bra when someone rapped at the bedroom door.

“It’s open,” I called, grabbing my sweatpants off the bed as Rowan stepped in, immediately averting his eyes anywhere but my ass as I turned with my back to him to pull on my pants. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the shirt off my bed, moving to pull it on when I felt his fingers brushing over the scars on my back. I paused, unmoving until I looked at him over my shoulder. “I don’t remember it, but somehow my seatbelt broke, and I somehow, they say it was a miracle that I didn’t die, but I fell out of the window at the right angle. Judging from the wounds they think I slid across the gravel and glass, but ironically, being ejecting saved my life. If I had been in the car still, I would have gone over the bridge with mom and dad and Sam. It wasn’t the impact that killed them. It was going over the bridge and colliding with concrete from so high up.” I turned to face Rowan, looking up at him, running my fingers through my hair, searching for the scar with my fingertips. When I found it, I pulled my hair up, parting it and turning my head so he could see the scar.

“I had this head injury, from smacking my head on the concrete and when I finally woke up, and they told me they were dead, I immediately went for that wound. I just kept hitting myself in the head, and screaming. I couldn’t hear anything but the screaming, I couldn’t even hear Aedion saying my name. I wanted to die. Sometimes I still want to die, because it would be less painful than living. I’m worried every single day, I have been since I quit med school, that I’ve done nothing but disappoint them. By not finishing school, by not working for the company. By sleeping around and fighting in pits in the worst kinds of places, I’ve turned myself into some sort of monster, I-” I swallowed, my voice cracking as I looked down at my hands, leaning back against the edge of my bed.

“Never, Aelin,” he whispered, tilting my chin up to look at him, but I couldn’t quite get myself to let my eyes meet his. “Your parents, you were their joy. Their pride. They talked about you constantly. There is not a damn thing you could ever do for them to not be earth-shatteringly proud of you.”  
“Even if I threw it all away?”

“You haven’t thrown anything away. If anything, you’ve picked up where your dad left off, and he would be proud of you for it.” Instead of speaking, I leaned forward, my head resting on Rowan’s chest as I wrapped my arms around his solid body. His arms snaked around mine, his fingers brushing over the mangled ruin that was my back, something I’d let so few people actually see. Something about my back was a vulnerability I’d never shared with many people. In so many of my sexual encounters, even with Fenrys, I’d made sure it was dark enough, made sure to keep my shirt on to keep it hidden. But something about Rowan and the pull I felt toward him, the safety that I felt with him in arms reach made me feel less scared, less vulnerable, so I gripped his shirt in my fists and cried into his shirt until the weight lifted from my shoulders.

-  
I swirled my straw around in my glass, not bothering to look up as Rowan slid into the booth across from me, his beer splashing out on the table. After I took a long drink, then stabbed the lime at the bottom of the glass with my straw, I looked over at him. It was annoying, really, how I could feel every woman in the bar gazing his direction. Did I blame them? No. Rowan was handsome as hell, that damn tattoo that snaked up his face giving him an edge, had you wondering where else that tattoo spread, especially when you noticed that it danced over his hands, his fingers. I’d never really asked about it, so I leaned forward on my forearms, tapping the back of his hand with my finger.

“What’s it mean?” It was a series of lines and curves, circles, dots, sharp points and jagged lines. All twisted and curved together like a song. Rowan’s face hardened and he took a long drink before placing the glass on the table carefully and shrugging off his leather jacket. Through the white t-shirt he wore, I could see more of the same tattoo over his shoulder and chest.

“When I was eighteen,” he said, leaning back, fingers drawing swirls over the condensation of the beer glass, “I married my high school sweetheart. Her name was Lyria. I married her straight out of high school, she wasn’t even seventeen when we married. I proposed a little before we graduated, our wedding was in June, and then I deployed into the middle of the ocean. I got a letter from her, after I’d been gone for three months, and she was pregnant. I missed the birth, because they wouldn’t let me go home for it. So she raised him the first year completely alone. And then I got a call, that they allowed me to take because it was her family, and there was a robbery. Broke into our house, killed my wife and our son,” he inhaled sharply, eyes narrowing for a moment before he looked at me. “After that I dove harder into the military, worked my way up to become Major Rowan Whitethorn when I was thirty-one. I worked my ass off to become a trauma surgeon, met Fen, Connall, Lorcan, and Gavriel. We served together in a small special ops unit. We all met your dad through Gav when he met Aedion’s mom, and it just kind of went off from there. The tattoo,” he said, “tells the story of my shame of my wife dying. Of my son being murdered. The story of my…redemption. I saved as many people as I could, became a doctor to keep saving people, so that I could maybe somehow, some way, make up for not being there to protect Lyria and Ender.” I wiped a tear I hadn’t realized was falling until it tickled my cheek, and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. It turned out we had more in common than I ever could have thought, so instead of trying to comfort a grief I knew too well, I clinked my glass against his, then drained the rest of my drink before nodding my head toward the exit.

“Come with me.”

-

The music was loud, the bass thumping in time to my heart as I dragged Rowan into the center of the club next to the bar we’d been drinking in. He followed me willingly, only objecting once before I gave him a look that told him I wasn’t taking no for an answer. We’d both made heavy confession lately, and both decided to not think about it. I didn’t bother asking where Fen was, knowing he was surely off bedding a beautiful woman in the ritzy parts of the city. Tonight, it would just be me and Rowan, and Rowan was going to stop frowning if it was the last thing I did.

The dancing started off innocent enough, me dancing in the most dramatic of ways to get him to crack a smile, but once that started working, and once I’d had a handful of shots, I got looser, swaying my hips to the music. The song playing was hypnotic, taking over my body and soul. I turned my back to Rowan and didn’t bother stopping him when his hand landed on my hip, tugging me closer to his body. We moved together under the pulsing lights, hips grinding into hips, his hands trailing up and down my sides, over my stomach. My body felt feverish, too hot everywhere his hands landed, but I blamed the tequila, the whiskey.

I turned in his arms so I was facing him, one hand around his neck, the other against his chest. My head dropped back as I moved against him, my hair cascading down my back. My body felt light as a feather, my mind fuzzy and warm. As the song changed, he ducked his head down to my exposed neck, nose brushing along my lifeblood. I tried to stop the gasp that escaped my lips, but failed, my fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. One of his hands cupped the back of my neck and I looked at him beneath thick lashes, our faces so close that our breath was mingling, his nose bumping against mine. Yes, we would both forget about everything tonight, we would –

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” a voice behind me said loudly, and I snapped out of my trance, turning to come face to face with Dorian Havilliard himself. I swallowed, looking at Rowan over my shoulder, but he had vanished into the crowd, stealthy as the night itself.

“Sorry,” I said loudly, my heart pounding harder against my ribs than I’d ever felt it before. “I don’t have my phone, I was showing my friend the city.” Dorian nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips, his hand trailing down my arm until he was lacing our fingers. I glanced back over my shoulder again, but Rowan was nowhere to be seen, so I let myself get lost in the music, this time swaying against a body that was half as warm, not as hard and smooth. No, Dorian was quite the opposite of Rowan, even down to their looks, but I tried to get lost in him, too. It didn’t work. Not even when I let Dorian take me back to the manor, but I couldn’t stop the thoughts of how it had felt to have Rowan’s hands roaming my body, and I couldn’t ignore the way I imagined it were Rowan’s hands roving over me instead of Dorian’s. Rowan’s mouth on my neck, Rowan’s head between my legs, Rowan’s chest pressed to mine as I came with another’s name on my lips. And as I lay falling asleep, I couldn’t help but wonder when the hell this had even happened, when my heart had started to ache for the man that had been healing my physical wounds for years, and when the hell he had started healing my emotional ones, too.

-

When I slipped back into the apartment, it was five in the morning, and Rowan was strewn out across the couch. Gods, he was huge. He took up the entire thing, his arm so long his fingers were brushing the ground, his legs draped over the arms of it. When the door clicked behind me I froze, closing my eyes, cursing him for falling asleep out here, when he should have been asleep in the spare room, unless Fen had beat him to it.

“What time is it?” He asked quietly, taking a deep breath as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. I scratched my eyebrow, clearing my throat.

“Five AM. What are you doing asleep out here?”

“I wanted to make sure you got home okay, but clearly you didn’t need me to,” he said flatly, standing up and wincing as he stretched.

“You literally disappeared on me. I turned around and you were gone.”

“Your prince showed up, I didn’t think you needed me around anymore,” he countered, clearly on edge. I pressed my lips together in a thin line, eyes focused on my bedroom door. He was acting like a jealous asshole, but that was stupid, because clearly, we hadn’t really been about to kiss. It was the alcohol, especially on his end. Maybe not so much mine, but it had to be on his. I shifted my eyes to look at him, but he was staring at the fire place, the fire long since burned out with nothing but ash in its place.

“Like I said, you disappeared. I don’t owe you any explanations about what I do or don’t do with Dorian, but you don’t get to act like some territorial asshole just because –” He snorted, pushing himself off the couch and moving for the spare room, his room, and paused in the doorway.

“I don’t care what you do, Aelin. Forget it ever happened,” he said, then disappeared inside and shut the door behind him. I willed the fire in my veins to calm as I took the remaining steps to my bedroom door, shutting and locking it behind me as I stripped of my clothes, throwing them in a pile in my closet, trying to ignore the thoughts of dancing with Rowan.   
-

“What have you learned since you started hanging out with the prince?” Rowan asked me, flipping through one of my father’s old journals. I shrugged.

“Not a whole lot, we don’t do…a lot of talking,” I said slowly, pressing my lips together in a thin line. Beside me, Fenrys smirked.

“Have you been to the castle?”

“No. Most of his parties are at a manor house on the outskirts of the city. I’ve seen plenty of the company he keeps and I feel like anything that my father was suspicious of had nothing to do with the prince. And before you tell me that it’s naïve, meet him yourself. He’s honest and smart and-”

“You don’t need to fall in love with him, Aelin. It could be dangerous.” At that I rolled my eyes, and Fenrys snorted.

“She isn’t in love with him, she’s gathering intel and having sex.”

“I’m not gathering intel, I’m observing behavior,” I corrected, picking up one of the folders my father had on Dorian. “And, anyway, even if he was doing something illegal and shady, I’d never find out about it. The captain of the guard that you met the other night, I don’t think he likes or trusts me. He’s so suspicious of me, you’d think I was an assassin or something.”

“Maybe you should sleep with him, too, to make him relax,” Fen said, nudging me with his elbow. I looked over at him with a raised brow, then rolled my eyes.

“I don’t think Chaol would sleep with me if I held a gun to his head and said he had to. Although, if I held one to Dorian’s head, he might.”

“You’re not sleeping with anyone,” Rowan said tersely from across the table.

“She’s sleeping with Dorian,” Fenrys quipped, turning the page of the journal he was reading. Rowan’s eyes flickered darkly, but Fen flashed him a cocky grin without even looking up. We’d been at this for hours so far, skimming through folders and pages and pictures and lists. Rowan had been reading my father’s journals for the last two weeks, searching for anything that pointed any sort of direction as far as what was going on here that could have gotten him killed. So far, the only thing of interest was the list of names and dates, but we still weren’t sure what they even referred to. When we’d looked up the names of the people, the first fifty were dead, and ended up deciding it had to be some sort of dead end, although something about the list was bothering a dark corner of my brain, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. The list itself was thousands of names long, no exaggeration, point blank just name after name, followed by three dates. I’d skimmed the pages to see if I recognized any of them, but didn’t. I intended to dig deeper into it, into the people at some point, but so far hadn’t had the time.

“Whatever is going on here I think it’s over his head. He’s too nice, Ro, if he was involved wouldn’t I already be involved or dead?” Rowan sucked his teeth, tongue darting out to run over his lips.

“You’re probably right but we can’t be too careful. You should limit how much you see and are seen with him.” I sighed, pursing my lips and rolling my eyes. “I’m serious.”

“God’s fucking ballsack, why do you care so much if I’m getting laid or not?” I meant to say it quietly, as more of an annoyed thought, but it came out way more exasperated than I anticipated. Across the table, Rowan froze, and next to me, Fenrys completely relaxed, leaning back in his chair, a slow grin spreading over his face.

“Yeah, Whitethorn. Why do you care so much?” Fenrys comment seemed to snap something in Rowan, because he pushed out of his chair so hard that it flipped over and he was storming out the door, slamming it behind him. I turned my head to look at Fenrys, who merely shrugged and went back to reading over his pages, but something about the way his lips kept tugging up at the corners had me anxious and wondering what the hell had just happened. I didn’t have to wonder for long, though. Because as quickly has he departed, he reappeared, startling me enough that I jumped to my feet. He made a beeline for me, and I backed up against the wall in surprise because he walked with such conviction, yet when he reached me, his fingers grazing my jaw, it was all soft. The kiss that he pressed to my lips, however, was anything but. It felt deep and raw and claiming, and my hands moved to rest against his face, but he pulled away, looking down at me with such intensity I’d never felt before.

“Oh,” I whispered, but Rowan was already moving toward the door again, closing it behind him softly this time. I looked at Fen. “ _Oh_.”

“Gods-damned idiot,” he said, but he was grinning like a fiend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter, honestly. I hope you did as well. I plan on updating this again in a few days bc I’m too eager for you guys to read the first sexy scene between Rowaelin! Lmk what you think!


	11. Wanderer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So when your hopes on fire  
> But you know your desire  
> Don’t hold a glass over the flame  
> Don’t let your heart grow cold  
> I will Call you by name  
> I will share your road   
> Hopeless Wanderer - Mumford and Sons

Fenrys had long since gone to bed, and I sat on the floor before the fireplace in the living room, stoking a dying fire. I wasn’t putting much effort into it, mindlessly prodding at the burning wood with the poker. It gave off enough warmth for where I sat, blanket over my legs and wine in my free hand. It was nearly four in the morning, and Rowan still wasn’t back yet, nor had he answered his phone when I called around midnight. It was at that point that I’d decided to let him simmer on his own, he clearly needed to either process what he did, or he was too busy hiding from however he thought I would react when he stood before me. Clearly, he thought it was bad, which showed just how much of an idiot he really was.

When I finally heard the lock in the door click, I shifted my eyes over, watching as it opened and he stepped inside, shutting it quietly behind him. He made to disappear into the spare bedroom, but I leaned back, exposing myself from where I was currently hidden behind the coffee table.

“Fen is in there, and as funny as it would be, something tells me he’s not your type,” I said, hanging the poker on the rack and standing, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders. Rowan’s gaze fell upon me as I sat on the arm of the couch, licking my lips as I looked up at him.

“I’m sorry, about earlier.”

“For kissing me, or for walking out, or for not answering my call, or for –“

“Yeah, okay, I get it, Princess,” he sighed, leaning against the fireplace mantel, then quietly said, “I’m not sorry that I kissed you.”

“Well good, otherwise it would be embarrassing that I’ve thought about it all night.”

“Look, I know that you and Dorian-“

“Dorian is great but I…every time we’ve been together I couldn’t stop myself from imagining it was you,” my voice got quieter as I spoke, my eyes moving to stare at the ornate rug that covered my floor.

“Did you, now?” Rowan drawled, pushing off the mantel and moving toward me, stopping when he stood between my legs.

“I didn’t think you felt that way toward me. I figured you just saw me as a patient, so I was trying to get over it and physically seemed the smartest way to go.” When I looked up at him, he brushed his fingers along my jaw until he was cupping my face, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. I flicked my tongue over my lower lip, then tucked it between my teeth as I gazed up at him, at his handsome face. At that tattoo that seemed so wicked, at the way he seemed to look so stern all the time, but right now, his face was relaxed, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He was even more handsome right now than he was when he was brooding.

“How could I not feel that way about you?” He mused, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I let go of my blanket and it fell down around me as I moved my hands to his wrists, thumbs brushing soft circles over the back of his hands. I turned my head slightly, pressing a kiss to his palm with a sigh. My heart was thundering so hard in my chest I thought it might burst. “I’d like to try it again, if you don’t mind,” he said softly, bending down so his lips hovered over mine.

“Do your worst,” I mumbled against them, tilting my head so they finally connected. His mouth was warm and soft, exactly as it had been earlier this evening. We moved our mouths in sync, parting our lips and letting our tongues engage in the slowest, most sensual of dances. A moan escaped my lips, and Rowan’s hands gripped my thighs and lifted me so effortlessly I accidentally groaned, entirely too turned on by the strength that existed under the arms my hands were running up. He grinned against my mouth, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Rowan carried us to my room, laying me down on the bed. I crawled back until my head was on my pillow and he followed, hovering over my body. I tugged his shirt over his head, running my hands over his skin, over the rigid planes of his abdomen. Gods, he was beautiful. His hands ran up my bare legs, and I was suddenly thankful that I’d opted to wear my shortest pajama shorts. He was able to touch, to feel so much of me that I felt as though I’d set on fire.

His hips settled against mine, the evidence of him wanting me just as much as I wanted him evident in the way he slowly rocked his hips against mine. Our mouths continued to move together, each kiss getting hungrier and hungrier with every second that passed until he pulled his mouth from mine, chest heaving. Rowan rested his head against my shoulder, seeming to collect his thoughts until he finally looked back at me, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“Not while Fenrys is down the hall,” he ground out, eyes moving back down to my lips. “I don’t want anyone to be able to hear it when I make you moan, Aelin.” The words alone made a small whimper in my throat, but I nodded in understanding, running my fingers through my hair.

“Sleep with me then?” I asked, hands wandering over his shoulders. Rowan nodded, ducking his head down to press a kiss to the hollow of my throat before he rolled off of me, pulling off his jeans and discarding them over the back of the chair at my vanity before he got back in bed with me, tugging my body to his. “One more,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his. He groaned into my mouth, and we got completely lost like that, kissing lazily until the sun came up and we both drifted off to sleep.

-

I dumped the Crown Prince of Adarlan through a text message, and he still invited me to a gala at the Glass Castle. Which turned out to be perfect, considering it gave us ample opportunity to look around at the people that were involved with the royal family, as well as the king and who he deemed worthy of his time.

Rowan and I had already been shopping for his tuxedo, and he was devastating in it. The pants were black, but the jacket was a deep emerald green with black velvet lapels. His bow-tie was gold, and he looked so good when he stepped out of the dressing room I had almost asked him to take me in the little space behind the door.

I already knew exactly what dress I would be wearing. The same dress that, a few weeks ago, Fen had said would have Rowan losing his mind. It was currently hanging in a garment bag in the closet, and Rowan had yet to see the dress. Most of my nicer dresses were still hanging in their garment bags from the move.

I slipped onto my vanity bench, picking up my favorite eyeshadow palettes and began blending my way toward a black and gold smokey-eye look. I took my time, enjoying being able to give this time just to myself. Rowan and Fenrys were down in the warehouse, sifting through files for anything that could be incriminating or we should potentially look out for. I’d been helping until deciding I should start getting ready, so I’d disappeared upstairs and showered, blow-dried my hair, and curled it before settling in at my vanity to work on my face. My curls were tight at present, but once I brushed them out they’d look like the kind of curls old movie stars had, loose waves that when combined with the combs I intended to tuck into my hair, would be devastating, I hoped.

When I was finally satisfied with my eyes, I moved onto my skin, buffing and bouncing foundation into onto it until I was satisfied with the level of coverage. I contoured my cheekbones until they were sharp and stunning, highlighted them until I was content with the glow they gave off. A nude lip was essential, as I was very eye heavy, and my dress was rather intense. I drummed my fingers on my vanity table, inspecting my face as I blinked slowly, enjoying how bright my eyes looked against the black, how the gold that was in a ring around my iris stood out with the golden shimmer on my lids. With the thick lashes I’d popped on, my eyes were perfect bedroom eyes. I was more than satisfied. If only my hair was still golden, and not reddish brown, I sighed, brushing through the curls with a boars-hair brush, the curls relaxing into the stunning waves I was so excited about.

Rowan slipped into the room then, dropping a kiss on the top of my head on his way to the bathroom, where the shower immediately started up. My heart instantly fluttered, my entire body alive and aware of how his lips had felt in my hair. I wanted him to do that every day until I died.

I checked the time, we still had plenty of time to finish getting ready and arrive at the castle on time, so I moved from my desk and slipped out into the kitchen, brewing a cup of coffee to sip on while Rowan showered. I didn’t want to get dressed and finish my hair until he was ready, so that he would be completely surprised when he saw me. It’s the little things in life.

Fenrys was sitting at the bar, his own golden curls damp from a shower. His dress pants were already on and he was eating a bowl of cereal as I made the coffee to my liking – ample cream and sugar – and sat down next to him, sipping the warm life essence that I’d never been able to live without.

“Did you guys find anything interesting?” I asked, because when I’d left there had been next to nothing. Fen nodded, pushing a file in front of me and I flipped it open, eyes skimming the page. The front page was a list of financial exchanges into several different bank accounts, my heart stopping at one of the names on the list.

“Arobynn Hamel?” I nearly choked, my eyes darting to Fenrys in disbelief, who nodded. “Where are these payments coming from?”

“An offshore account that years ago Lorcan was able to trace somehow back to the Glass Castle. I don’t even remember how he did it, and at the time it didn’t seem all too important, because of course the family would have an assassin lord in their pocket, but if the King has any direct relationship with Hamel, it could be some sort of key.” I skimmed over the rest of the papers, other names I wasn’t all too familiar with littered throughout, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Arobynn was some sort of key to it all. My father had always hated Hamel, despite every other person in big business having him in their pocket. Especially since Arobynn had always had a weird fascination with me.

My father, however, wasn’t like most business men. He wasn’t as cutthroat and vicious. He had stakes in the two most powerful technology companies in the entire world – yet if you met him on the street you would have had no idea. He often times traded his fitted suits for jeans and t-shirts, he gave hundred dollar bills to homeless people in the alley ways. It was part of what made this entire secret spy-ring so bizarre, I couldn’t believe he’d be involved with something like this, but at the same time I absolutely could believe it, because my father did everything he possibly could to make the world a better place, my mother at his side.

I sucked on a tooth, flipping the folder closed and taking another long sip of my coffee, the door to my bedroom swung open, revealing Rowan in a towel. It took everything in me to not groan. He was dry, but his skin had a luminosity like he’d rubbed one of my skin oils into it, and when the scent from the room finally wafted through to the kitchen, I could in fact smell a hint of vanilla.

“Aelin?” He said, nodding his head toward the bedroom. I patted Fen on the shoulder.

“You should probably get dressed, babe,” I said to him, downing the rest of my drink and following Rowan into my room. I shut the door behind us, and in an instant, he was pressing his lips to mine softly, briefly. I smiled. “Hi.”

“You look stunning,” Rowan told me, moving over to the closet. He disappeared for a moment as I settled back at my vanity, twisting several braids around the crown of my head, the majority of my hair still down. When he came out, he was in his pants, white shirt tucked into them as he buttoned the cuffs of his shirt. I watched, legs crossed as he approached me, holding his bow tie in his hand. I took it, flipping his collar up to settle the gold silk around his neck, quietly working my fingers to flip and twist the fabric into a perfect bow. Rowan’s eyes were on my face with such intent that it was hard to not smile, and eventually I quit trying not to, grinning up at him when I patted his chest to signify that I was done.

“Perfect,” I said, rocking up onto my toes to place a soft kiss on his lips. Rowan smiled, eyes looking back down to my lips before he attacked, pressing kisses all over my cheeks and mouth. I laughed loudly, head falling back as he continued the assault, kisses placed everywhere on my throat. He was making the most absurd sounds while he did it, the sounds nearly discernible through both of our laughter. “You’re going to mess up my makeup!” I squealed, pushing his face away. Rowan laughed lowly in his throat, pressing a final kiss to my lips before he moved to the closet to pull on his coat.

“Is your dress going to ruin me?”

“I sure hope so,” I gave him a coy smile over my shoulder before pulling open my vanity drawer and pulling out two golden batwing combs, which I tucked into the braid crown atop my head. Rowan stepped out of the closet then, adjusting the lapels of that emerald jacket, and I sighed. “You might ruin me, too. And I just might let you.”

“Only in good ways,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my hair as he moved out to the living room with his glossy shoes hooked on his fingers. I then slipped into the closet, taking my time unzipping the garment bag and taking in the sight of the dress I’d never worn. I’d never even had an occasion to wear it, despite how stunning it was. Then, it was a racy dress for me, something that would have been unusual for me to wear. But the woman that I was now, it seemed somehow fitting, so I pulled it out of the bag and onto my body, moving back to the full length mirror in my room to adjust the long, black velvet sleeves around my wrists. I adjusted the high neckline that spread just below my collarbones, wrapping around my shoulders and leading into the long sleeves. I turned, fixing the open back. The dress clung to me like a glove, fitting me so perfectly I almost couldn’t believe it. When I looked at myself, my entire image after I’d slipped on my patent black heels, I looked like a damn queen.

When I was satisfied with my appearance, having dabbed a bit more lip gloss on and dropped it into my black clutch (which also had golden embroidery that matched the back of my dress), I opened the door to my room and stepped out, turning in a small circle for both of the boys – Rowan in his emerald green, Fenrys in a deep shade of plum.

I wish there was a word for the emotion that I saw in Rowan’s eyes, but the only word that seems to come to mind is love, but even that didn’t seem enough. He swiped his hand over his jaw, rubbing at his lips. I turned again, pausing this time so they could take in the golden embroidery that made up the back of my dress, which was a stunning dragon, it’s mouth opening at the bottom point of the low back, it’s body snaking down until it’s tail curved around the hem of the gown. When I looked at them, at Rowan, over my shoulder this time, he moved to me, fingers tracing delicately over the dragon. He pressed a kiss to the bare part of my shoulder.

“Incredible,” he whispered against my skin, causing an unfathomable amount of goosebumps to erupt all across my skin. “You look-“

“Insanely gorgeous,” Fenrys finished, smiling at me. I shrugged.

“I guess I cleanup all right,” I waved a beringed hand, my black polish offsetting the sparkling gems that covered my fingers. “We should get going.”

-

The gala at the palace was already insane, a red carpet running down the stairs and part of the drive. Paparazzi cameras flashed everywhere along one side of the carpet. I looked for somewhere to walk without having to get our photos taken, but there seemed to be no way around it, so we stepped onto the carpet, Rowan posing with me only for a handful of flashes, Fenrys behind us having his own, before we made our way up the stairs and disappeared inside.

People were everywhere. Famous actors and actresses, royals. You name it and they were there, people I’d watched on my tv, that I followed on twitter, royalty of every rank. My arm was looped through Rowan’s as we walked, Fen on his other side. At one point Rowan ducked his head down to murmur something to Fenrys, but I didn’t have time to ask what he said, because Chaol and Dorian were approaching fast.

“Celaena!” Dorian seemed all too chipper, despite the text I’d sent him, I’m so sorry – but I can’t keep up whatever it is we had. I’d like to stay friends. He’d responded kindly enough, saying he’d love to continue our friendship. It was shocking, honestly. Honorable. Quite the opposite of anything his father was. His father was known to be cruel. I curtseyed, the men at my side bowed.

“Dorian, Chaol,” I greeted, smiling at them. I motioned to Rowan and Fenrys, “My…colleagues? Dr. Major Rowan Whitethorn, and –“

“Her boyfriend,” he interjected, shaking his hand. I tried to stop my smile. I really, really did.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam,” I said. Fenrys winked at Dorian, shaking his hand. “Prince Dorian Havilliard and Chaol Westfall, his captain of the guard, whom I believe you guys met briefly.”

They nodded, Rowan taking two flutes of champagne from a tray that a man in a tux was taxiing around. I took the flute from him, taking a sip as Dorian told me how beautiful I looked. Even Chaol nodded in agreement.   
“Fit to be a Queen,” he remarked, but I shook my head.

“I’d be an incredible queen, you should see how I keep these two in line,” I joked, judging Rowan with my hip. He smiled at me, his hand moving to rest on my lower back, his thumb brushing small circles over my bare skin. It was hard not to shiver. I leaned into his touch, letting my arm loop around his lower back as well. Dorian gave us a smile and nodded toward the open room.

“Enjoy yourselves, we’ll catch up with you later. It was nice to meet you, gentlemen,” he gave us as wave as he departed, moving to greet other guests.

“If we see Hamel here tonight-“ Rowan started but I shook my head.

“We’re screwed and I’ll have to get out of here because theres no way. He would recognize me, even with the hair and the makeup. He was weirdly fascinated with me, anytime he had meetings with my dad he would run into me in the halls of the office. He had one meeting at our manor and showed up in my bedroom when I was fifteen, and my dad moved my room onto the clear opposite side of the manor,” I sighed. “I think he did it to bait my dad to try to get him to do what he wanted but I know dad would never budge.”

“I was on your security detail when you were in college,” Fen said, sipping his champagne. “You had Sam, obviously, but I was enrolled in classes and always around campus, especially when Sam was gone.” I turned to Fen, bunching my brows together. I wasn’t aware I’d ever been under a security detail. “I know, don’t get mad.” But I wasn’t mad, not at all. Just surprised that my father had never mentioned keeping me under security while I’d attended med-school. He must have been more worried that I’d ever realized. My eyes flitted around the room, processing everything I knew. Hamel was potentially on the king’s payroll. Hamel kept trying to get through to my father. I knew about the meetings he tried to set up constantly, heard my father complain about it over dinners to my mother in hushed tones, my mother always looking worried. Hamel baiting me as an adult, always trying to coerce me into dinners or what have you. Stabbing a steak knife through my hand to prove me useless, yet to strengthen me at the same time. What was his stake in all of this? Was he trying to get to me as some sort of weird obsession or because he wanted to use me to dishonor my father’s memory? It was something I’d have to discuss with Rowan later when we were home.

The gala went on, people donating to whatever charity of the night. I refused, I wasn’t giving the King of Adarlan a single penny because I doubted it was going where they said it was anyway. I drank more champagne, danced with Rowan which was arguably my favorite part of the evening, and ate the most delicious chocolate hazelnut truffles I’d ever had in my life. I made sure to get the name of the confectionist from the waiter, knowing full well I’d be visiting them tomorrow.

It was a few hours into the evening that I noticed a familiar head of red hair on a handsome man with an army of assassins in his pocket. I tugged on Rowan’s arm, downing the rest of my champagne.

“We have to go,” I said, nodding toward Arobynn. “We have to go before he sees me, sees you or Fen.” Rowan merely nodded, leaning to whisper something to Fenrys, and then we were moving toward the exit. I pulled the combs from my hair, handing them to Rowan, and untwisted my braids as we walked, allowing my hair to fall into my face in attempt to hide it. I sighed when we reached the main doors and quickly made our way down the stairs, walking to the end of the drive before Fenrys hailed one of the many black cars to take us home. Sliding into the back of that car, letting out a sigh of relief, I genuinely couldn’t believe our luck. When had my last few years been lucky for a single moment?

It wasn’t later, until we were home, I was in a nightgown settling into bed while Rowan made me a cup of tea, that I realized how foolish I was to think I could be lucky at all. A text flashed up on my screen, from a number I didn’t have, but I didn’t need to to know who it belonged to.

Disappointed you didn’t stop to say hello. You looked well tonight, Aelin. Or should I be calling you Celaena?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TA DA!  
> Hope you guys love.  
> Also follow me on tumblr because i posted this there last week and forgot to update here i’m So sorry.
> 
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